In Unexpected Places
by AnnaBella
Summary: Something horrible happens to Ponyboy and he attempts to keep it hidden from his brothers and friends, but what will the consequences be should they find out? Attempted rape and SLASH!
1. Unexpected Occurances

In Unexpected Places   
  
Disclaimer: None of these characters or settings belong to me; they belong to S.E. Hinton- I am simply borrowing them for my own uses.  
  
Warnings: This is SLASH, there will be attempted rape, violence, coarse language, as well as some lemon scenes, though nothing very graphic.  
  
Author's Notes: This is quite AU. Both Johnny and Dally are alive and Johnny never killed Bob.  
  
Chapter One  
  
"Hey, Greaser!"  
  
Ponyboy sped up slightly, clutching his torn jean jacket tighter around his middle nervously, silently urging his legs to move faster. Rude and suggestive comments intruded on his thoughts, causing cold dread to seep into his veins, while at the same time making his blood boil.   
  
Steadfastly ignoring them, and determined to stay calm, Ponyboy kept walking, his feet leading him in the direction of the lot, where he hopefully he'd meet up with another Greaser and even out the odds a bit. However, judging by the hurried footsteps and voices increasing steadily in volume, it seemed that his pursuers were bored with the hunt, and were now intent on making the kill. Panicked, Ponyboy broke into a full-fledged run, footsteps echoing loudly as he pumped his legs wildly, desperate to escape the five Socs that made chase.  
  
Slowing slightly as he entered the lot, Pony's heart sank. The lot, for once, was vacant, no Greasers to be found. Ponyboy was alone.  
  
Still, he was a Greaser and his pride wouldn't allow these rich kids to make him cower in fear, although that was in fact exactly what he felt like doing at that particular moment, as he saw for the first time his pursuers. They were big. Very big. Much bigger than Pony, and the young boy found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he wasn't so slim, and possessed even a quarter of his oldest brother's brawn.   
  
However, even if he wasn't as big or strong as Darry, he would still fight, just like Darry or Soda or Dally would fight; he would fight as befit a member of the gang.  
  
One Soc, a brunette, approached slowly and cautiously.  
  
'He probly thinks I'm gonna pull a blade or heater on him.' Pony thought to himself. The young Greaser almost laughed out loud at the thought; there was no way he'd ever carry a weapon. After all, Darry would skin him alive if he found out, and come to think of it, most probably with Soda's help.   
  
Observing the hesitant Soc's progress, the Greaser's intense green-grey eyes regarded him coolly and long, slim fingers toyed with a non-existent blade. However, the wide eyes of the young boy snapped up to observe the rest of the group as a shout sounded out, reverberating throughout the lot.   
  
"Oh, don't be a chicken! Go on; grab him... he's just a kid!" A blonde Soc yelled impatiently.  
  
Ponyboy stiffened as the brown-haired boy obeyed the blonde, approaching him with determination, and he tensed, crouching slightly in a defensive position, like Soda had taught him. He was prepared when the Soc grabbed him roughly and shoved him forward, and he started to struggle violently. He bucked and twisted like a wild animal about to be caged, refusing to remain passive and intent on dealing as much damage as possible to the cocky bastards holding him.   
  
But he was outnumbered and soon feeling quite light-headed from a sharp blow to the temple with what felt like the blunt end of a knife, and dizzy from the pain of cracked ribs. It wasn't enough, however, to distract him from the actions of the Socs, who occupied themselves with trying to remove the faded jean jacket that he'd received as a hand-me down from Soda. He struggled weakly against their efforts and managed to bite one, drawing blood from the Soc's hand, and earning himself fierce cussing and a vicious backhand to the face.  
  
Dimly, Ponyboy felt hands tugging at his clothes, and thrashed about, hoping to throw them off, but his vision was blurry and bile was rising in his throat. He paused for a moment, and as his vision cleared, his other senses returned to normal. He realised that he was flat on his back, body pressed forcefully against the dark pavement, pebbles digging into his spine, with the burly, blonde Soc on top of him, his dark eyes gleaming with something sinister. Pony strained to identify the emotion and his breath caught when he did.  
  
Lust.  
  
His efforts to escape doubled as he thrashed about, but the blonde seemed to enjoy it and began fondling the young Greaser, as he commented offhandedly to his companions, "He's pretty, isn't he?"  
  
Laughter was the only response, but one answered, "Yeah...pretty as a broad, I'd say. Maybe even more so with that face."  
  
The blonde grinned wolfishly, and looking down lustfully, responded contemplatively, "Maybe...I'm more inclined to say that his legs are his best feature, though...slim, shapely...what do you think?" he leaned down to whisper in the auburn-haired boy's ear. Will you spread them for me, Greaser?"  
  
Stormy eyes widened in fear and outrage, and Pony spat in defiance, despite the fact that he was scared stiff. The blonde's eyes narrowed to slits, eyes blazing with anger and his next words were spoken in a low, dangerous tone.  
  
"Fine, we'll play rough then. I hope you're prepared for a whole lot of pain, 'cause you're gonna get it...ya dig, grease?"  
  
Pony was trembling, and his hands were clammy with fear. He understood, alright- he understood very clearly. He was going to suffer at the hands of these Socs. He'd seen the damage they could do when they jumped Johnny. The battered face of his friend flashed repeatedly through his mind, as well as Johnny's pain and all-compassing fear afterwards...Johnny was scared of his own shadow after his assault. At the thought that that could be him all Pony could do was plead silently and will the tears to stay at bay.  
  
'Please,' he begged silently, 'please, someone help me! Soda...Darry...anyone, please! I'm so scared... SODA!'  
  
And suddenly the hands were gone, pounding footsteps indicating the departure of the Socs, with a harsh voice cussing them as they fled. The voice sounded familiar...  
  
"Dally?" Pony whispered. The blonde spun around at the sound of the soft voice, and knelt down beside the younger Greaser.  
  
"Yeah, kid, it's me." The deep voice murmured with concern. "Glory, Pony, what happened to you?"  
  
Ponyboy just shook his head, not trusting his voice. He buried his face in trembling hands, wishing Soda were there. Soda would understand. Before he knew it, the fear overcame him and tears streamed down his face. He made to wipe them away quickly, ashamed that he was crying in front of Dallas Winston, the tough hood that let nothing touch him- when that same hood suddenly brushed them away for him. Pony gasped, shocked by the tenderness of the touch, and his head snapped up to look at the elder Greaser questioningly.  
  
Dally glanced away, a light blush settling on pale cheeks, but when he turned back to Pony, his face was impassive once more.  
  
"What happened, kid? I got my suspicions, but I'd rather not be jumpin to conclusions...I'm aiming for the truth here, so that I can keep my ass outta the cooler if I'm wrong, but, dammit, skin some of those sonofabitches if I'm right."  
  
Ponyboy studied him nervously. He didn't want to be the cause for Dally getting into trouble, but he knew that the blonde would pry it out of him one way or another; Dallas Winston always got what he wanted. Pony sighed in defeat, shoving a few strands of auburn hair out of his eyes, then fixed green-grey orbs on his fellow gang member.  
  
"Well, I was walking home from school, just like every day, 'cept Johnny and Two-Bit had left already, 'cause I had track, so it was just me. I was walking when suddenly I hear these voices behind me, shouting at me- real dirty things, you know," Pony repeated some of the Socs rude comments, pausing as anger flared in Dally's eyes and the blonde cussed fiercely. Eyes ablaze and jaw set, Dally indicated for him to continue.  
  
"Anyway, so I guess they were getting tired of me not getting mad and not responding, so they started to chase me. I'm real fast, though, so they couldn't catch me, but I came here, hoping someone would be here, and they got me cornered. I tried to fight, Dally, I swear I did! I-,"  
  
Pony's voice was rising, and Dally took him by the shoulders, shaking him slightly, as he exclaimed "Glory, Ponyboy, I know you did! You're a Greaser! And a Curtis at that... 'course you fought! Now don't go getting off track; keep talking."  
  
Pony took comfort in Dally's familiar scolding, and drew a shaky breath, mentally steeling himself for his next words, words sure to spark Dally's rage.  
  
"Yeah, so I was fighting 'em off best as I was able, but they got the better of me. Pushed me t-to the ground...I was real dizzy, but I tried to fight...one of 'em smacked me right here..." he gingerly touched his jaw, where a purple bruise was rapidly forming, continuing shakily.   
  
"I was real dazed...and that was when he, h-he started tearing at my clothes. I spat at the one on top of me, and then he...he..." his soft voice dropped to a whisper and Dally had to lean forward to hear him, rage mounting as Pony recounted the rest of the Socs' words.  
  
When the young boy was finished, Dally jumped up and started pacing furiously, cussing colourfully all the while, and fishing in his front pocket for a cigarette. Only after lighting it did he pause in his swearing, but after taking a long drag, he seemed slightly calmer.  
  
"They didn't get to do nothin', did they, Pony?" he asked hoarsely, body stiff with tension.  
  
Ponyboy shook his head no, silky ginger locks falling across his face. "They didn't get a chance, thanks to you. I owe you one, Dally. Thanks." He grinned gratefully, awaiting a response from his friend.  
  
The blonde shook his head as well, though instead of the vulnerable, grateful look that Pony's face had, Dally's was cold, his expression grim.  
  
"Naw," he said harshly, "you got nothin' to thank me for. Greasers watch out for each other."  
  
Pony nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah, I guess they do." He said quietly, sighing softly. " But they also gotta know how to take care of themselves. I dunno know what's wrong with me. I mean, I could've called someone, but I just don't use my head."  
  
Dally regarded him with a cool expression, though black eyes were worried. "You're gonna have to learn, kid." He said. "This is just the start...Socs are always gonna be after you."  
  
Ponyboy bowed his head, threading his fingers through his hair as more hot tears spilled down smooth cheeks.  
  
Dally's expression softened slightly with a hint of compassion. "Hey, don't worry too much about it, Pony. If I don't take care of those Socs, then your brothers sure as hell will."   
"Yeah, they would too..." the boy mused, wiping his tears away hurriedly "they're a little protective..."  
  
Pretending not to notice the tears, Dally declared laughingly, ruffling soft auburn hair "A little? Pony, you don't even know the half of it, kid."   
  
Ponyboy gazed at him with amusement, his own shy laugher filling the air some moments later. He closed his eyes in wonderment, considering the life he led-his home with his loving older brothers and the friends he had, ones he apparently didn't even know that well, judging by this new side of Dally... His enemies...he shuddered as feelings experienced only minutes before returned, reducing him to a quivering mess of nerves once more.  
  
"Glory...I need a cigarette...you got a cancer stick on you, Dally?" Pony said in a shaky voice.  
  
Dally smirked, trying to lighten up the mood once more. "Course I do, kid. Here, but don't tell Darry. You're supposed to be cutting down, remember?"  
  
Pony stared at the man in front of him, marvelling at the change in character as he took the cigarette and lit it quickly. Inhaling deeply, the young Greaser observed Dally, attempting to understand his complex companion, concluding at last that Dally simply wasn't as cold as he originally thought him to be. He chuckled, suddenly remembering something.  
  
"Dally, aren't you supposed to be cutting down too?" Pony asked slyly.   
  
The blond head whipped around to stare at him, and black eyes glittered dangerously.  
  
"What are you babbling about, Pony?" he muttered darkly, eyes warning him not to say a word. However, Ponyboy simply discarded that warning, continuing gleefully, recent experience practically forgotten.  
  
"Well," the lovely boy said mischievously, "Two-Bit just told something about a secret adoration of yours. Said that one night you were drunk and revealed your deepest, darkest secrets, including your love of Mickey Mouse. I think he said...somethin' bout how he made you promise to quit smoking or he'd retract your Mickey privileges and reveal to everyone, including Tim Shepard, your secret indulgence. Blackmail, you know? Hmmm...should I tell, do you think? Everyone really should -."   
  
Pony's statement escalated to a shriek as Dally tackled him, pinning him to the ground, as he shouted, "Holler Uncle!"  
  
"Never!" Ponyboy responded haughtily, laughing slightly.  
  
Dally simply pinned him harder, crushing the boy's slim figure with his own lean one. "Holler Uncle." he repeated. Pony only struggled, trying to escape the hold, and it was only then that Dally noticed the panicked look in the boy's eyes and became fully conscious of their position.  
  
"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, immediately jumping off the younger Greaser. "Sorry, kid." He held out a hand, relieved when Pony took it and he pulled the ginger-haired boy to his feet.  
  
Embarrassed of his blunder, Dally pulled Pony along behind him, saying with finality, "C'mon, let's get you home. Darry'll be worryin' himself sick. Soda too."  
  
Nodding in agreement, Pony made to follow but suddenly froze, grabbing Dally's arm roughly, voice taut with tension.  
  
"Dally, you're not going to tell Darry and Soda, are you?" Pony asked urgently, biting a fingernail nervously.  
  
Dally studied the youngest Curtis' face, answering carefully.  
  
"Of course I am." He said simply, voice brooking no argument, but Pony paid no mind, protesting passionately.  
  
"Please don't tell them, Dally! They have enough to worry about already; they don't need this too. Please?"  
  
Dally was about to object fiercely, but expressive green-grey eyes caught his, gazing at him imploringly through lowered lashes.  
  
Dally stared at him intensely before sighing in defeat, knowing that it would break the fragile bond of trust between them if he told. "Alright, fine. But just this once. If it happens again, they're the first to know, okay?" he said with finality, eyes serious.  
  
Pony nodded eagerly. "Thanks, Dally, you're a real buddy." He said appreciatively, giving him a peck on the cheek before bounding off into the house, reminding Dally uncannily of Sodapop.  
  
The blonde touched the spot on his cheek where only moments before Pony had brushed soft, full lips, and felt warmth spread throughout his body as he concentrated on the feeling. Suddenly catching himself, he chastised himself and his treacherous body mentally.  
'I don't need this...the kid doesn't need this, especially now...he's too damn young! Besides, Darry'd have my hide if he found out...' He thought to himself. 'Dammit! Why do these damn Curtis' need to be so damned affectionate!' he shook his head to clear the tangled web of thoughts in his mind. 'I need to go find me a fight or something. Distract myself.'  
  
Dally headed off in the direction away from the Curtis house, needing to resist the urge to break his promise and tell Darry and Soda, as well as the new temptation that had presented itself in the form of Ponyboy Curtis. 


	2. Nightmares

Author's Note: I would just like to apologise for a mistake I made in chapter one- Dally's eyes are blue, not black. No one commented on it, but I noticed it when I re-read the chapter. So his eyes will be blue from now on.  
  
Response to reviews:  
  
VSGG: My first reviewer! Thank you so much for your kind words and amazing support. Your review was incredibly encouraging, so thanks. *grins* Hope I updated soon enough for you!  
  
Tashue: I did pick up on it! There was total chemistry between them the entire book, but I haven't been able to find any other stories with this pairing so I thought maybe it was a figment of my own imagination. It's good to know someone else picked up on it! By the way, I absolutely adore your fics- I think they're fabulous! Did you get my e-mail? Anyway, thank you for the encouragement!  
  
ModestVanity: Thank you so much for the compliments; I'm so flattered! I hope you like this chapter just as much!  
  
Also, my thanks go out to MissLKid, Estelle Yavetil, cat, alexa and Hanah for your reviews. Thanks guys!  
  
*Look to first chapter for warnings and disclaimers.  
  
Chapter Two: "Nightmares"  
  
* * *  
  
Insistent hands tugged at his clothing, ruining the already damaged garments further, oblivious to the sounds of tearing cloth and panicked cries, though they echoed clearly in the silent darkness of the starless night. ' Or, maybe just ignoring them,' he thought with sudden detachment, though he couldn't understand how it was possible, as the sounds grated on his own ears.  
Sound was all he was aware of.the sounds of his attackers actions and the furious thumping of his own pounding heart. Just noise.and touch. Oh, touch most definitely. He could neither see nor move, but he was conscious of all that happened to his immobile body. It was all too real- the large, muscular frame crushing him. the hot, harsh breathing of his assailant on his neck, and rough, groping hands moving aggressively all along his body, aiming to hurt as their owner sought his own pleasure.  
  
He was panicking, twisting and bucking wildly, attempting to escape the imprisoning embrace, but all his attacker did was push his hips forward, pinning the body underneath him and thrust forcefully, letting his victim feel his bulging erection.  
  
He was trapped, caged.there was no escape.that was all he was aware of-the all-consuming fear and horrible feeling of being trapped.he was sweating uncontrollably, and struggling to open his eyes, yet they were glued shut. He was screaming in terror, and suddenly he caught a glimpse of blue madras, as his body was shaken violently.  
  
* * *  
  
He was trembling uncontrollably; still screaming blue murder, his shoulders still being shaken roughly, so he was unaware that he'd escaped the strong clutches of his dream. Yet abruptly he realised that he was capable of movement, and shutting his mouth with an audible click, green- grey eyes snapped open in alarm, clashing with worried brown ones.  
  
"Pony? Are y'alright, honey?" Soda asked urgently, coffee-coloured orbs darkened with concern, hands now massaging hid brother's shoulders gently. "Glory, I was so worried." he continued, relief that Ponyboy had finally awoken palpable in his soft voice.  
  
"Sodapop?" Ponyboy murmured in confusion, wide eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to clear the thin veil of cloudiness that still partially obscured his vision, as well as adjust to the bright light of the overhead bulb. Slim, pale hands reached out for his older brother, and Soda took them without hesitation, grasping the long fingers comfortingly.  
  
"Yeah, honey, it's me.you scared me somethin' awful there, you know.normally you wake up real quick after these dreams, but this time you just kept on screaming." Soda's voice was soothing, but there was an underlying hint of genuine fear, and Ponyboy immediately felt guilty.  
  
"Sorry, Soda," he said remorsefully. His older brother shook his head firmly, his words insistent.  
  
"S'not your fault, Pon, you can't control it. Don't be feelin' guilty, ok?"  
  
Marvelling at his brother's understanding nature, a half-smile tugged at Ponyboy's lips, and he nodded, eyes conveying the depth of his gratitude as they met the warm chocolate ones of his beloved sibling. Soda cracked a grin, draping a wool blanket around the young boy's shoulders, and gathering him in an enthusiastic hug, squeezing him affectionately. Pony sighed contentedly, melting into the embrace, relishing the feel of his brother's arms around him. There was no time that he felt safer than when he was with Sodapop.  
  
They remained like that for a moment; Pony enfolded in his brother's embrace, Soda idly stroking silky auburn locks, when abruptly Ponyboy's head shot up in sudden worry. As Ponyboy wriggled out of the embrace, Soda gazed at him with concern, brow creased and lips parting to question his younger sibling, but Pony cut him off.  
  
"Hey, Soda, I didn't wake up Darry, did I?" he asked anxiously, chewing uneasily on the inside of his cheek and praying fervently that he hadn't. After all, his eldest brother, while maintaining the appearance of a strong, untouchable man, was particularly protective of him and worried about him almost to the point of collapse.  
  
Green-grey eyes swept over his Soda's handsome face intently, but his sibling's attention was now focused on the doorway. Ponyboy, whose back was facing the entrance to their bedroom, sighed as he realised the implication.  
  
"Hey, Dar," he said lowly, by means of acknowledgement, head tilting upwards as he turned his head to meet his brother's ice blue gaze.  
  
The hard blue eyes of the oldest Curtis softened somewhat as he entered the room, approaching the bed with long strides. "Pony," he greeted quietly once he stood at the edge of the bed, towering over his brothers. "How are ya feelin', baby?"  
  
Pony turned around, the green wool blanket pooling in his lap as his lithe body twisted so that he was able to face Darry completely. He played distractedly with the coloured fringe of the coverlet as he pondered how to answer the question.  
  
He wasn't feeling particularly well, now that he thought about it.his mind was in chaos- the dream had scared him. Real fear; not the kind of fear where you receive a shock, and afterwards it's just a matter of calming the adrenaline coursing through your veins, but neither is it the nervous sort of fear, where your hands become sweaty and you stutter when you speak. It's fear in its purest form; the all-consuming terror that results in clammy hands and provokes loss of sleep and appetite and paranoid behaviour. The type of fear that paralyses, that causes that occasional feeling of an ice serpent uncoiling in the pit of your stomach and freezing the blood throughout your body to become more common. That kind of fear.  
  
However, it wasn't in him to worry his brothers further with this situation with the Socs, even if he wished for nothing more than their comfort, and so the young Greaser smiled as reassuringly as possible, displaying a calmness he didn't feel in the least.  
  
"I'm fine," he said evenly, "sorry for waking you, Dar." He finished, bright eyes apologetic as he stared at his brother.  
  
Darry smiled tenderly, brushing the back of a tanned, calloused hand along Pony's smooth, creamy-skinned cheek, feeling an overwhelming surge of love and protectiveness well up inside him at the plainly vulnerable state of his youngest brother.  
  
Darry settled down next to the ginger-haired boy, wrapping a muscular arm around slim shoulders affectionately and pressing a firm kiss on the crown of auburn silk, ruffling the satin locks slightly. Ponyboy swatted at him playfully, and Darry shoved him into a laying position, pinning him to the mattress and tickling him mercilessly as Soda laughed uproariously, clutching his stomach in humour.  
  
Ponyboy screamed with laughter, the feather-light touches over his ribs unbearable, and he pleaded breathlessly between giggles for mercy. Darry grinned and paused for a moment.  
  
"Holler uncle." He said, eyes twinkling and fingers poised to resume their attack. Ponyboy eyed him warily, but raised his chin indignantly and, lips stretching into a smile, stuck out his tongue.  
  
"Never!" he cried, squirming underneath his brother in an attempt to escape the firm hold, but it was to no avail; Darry held him down resolutely, extracting mirthful squeals and giggles from the slim boy beneath him as he tickled him to the point of torment. His own rich laughter eventually rang out in the cramped bedroom as well, contributing to the joyful atmosphere, and only after he felt that Pony had suffered sufficiently did Darry allow himself to collapse beside his youngest sibling.  
  
Harsh breathing and the occasional chuckle were the only sounds heard in the room for the next few moments, but gradually both Darry and Ponyboy became aware of muffled peals of laughter issuing from the area near the side of the bed. Sharing an amused look, the two brothers moved to peer over the edge of the mattress, Pony flipping onto his stomach so he could hang his head off the bed, while Darry simply propped himself up on an elbow, leaning forward so that he could gaze over his brother's shoulder.  
  
The sight that greeted them was priceless.  
  
Soda lay curled up in a ball, fist shoved between his teeth to stifle his giggles, wheat-coloured hair sticking in every direction from rolling about on the floor, and dark eyes, while normally laughing and carefree, were now virtually glowing with humour as they rose to stare at his brothers.  
  
"Soda." Darry began slowly, eyeing his brother's position with interest, "is there any particular reason you're lying on the floor?"  
  
Sodapop managed to calm himself, and staring at Darry with seriousness etched into every feature of his handsome face, said, "Yeah, Dar, the floor is very comfortable. I've decided that I'd rather sleep here than with this filthy Greaser." He jerked his head in Ponyboy's direction, ignoring the younger boy's mock-offended gasp, and continued, "He stinks somethin' awful, 'specially after track practice." He finished, pinching the bridge of his nose exaggeratedly. Darry snorted, and Soda's face stretched into a grin, and he caught Pony easily as the youngest Curtis leapt off the bed and dove onto him. They grappled for a moment, but Soda, being the stronger of the two, eventually ended the wrestling match by pinning Pony to the ground.  
  
"Holler uncle." Commanded Soda. Ponyboy rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically.  
  
"You two oughta come up with somethin' new," he said laughingly, 'Holler uncle's' getting' real old, real fast."  
  
Soda made a move to tickle him again but Darry caught his arm.  
  
"Not now," he mumbled with a half-smile, "it's four in the morning and we both have work in the morning. We all need some sleep." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'm gonna sleep with you guys tonight, ok? I don't really feel like headin' back to my room."  
  
Pony realised in the far corners of his mind that Darry most probably just didn't want to leave him after the nightmare, but as Soda pulled him to his feet, he found he wasn't bothered by Darry's protectiveness, just grateful for his oldest brother's comforting presence. The ginger-haired boy stumbled over to the bed, into Darry's waiting arms, and snuggling closer to his older brother's warmth, he barely registered Soda's actions, as the normally exuberant Greaser switched off the light, and climbed into the bed beside his brothers.  
  
"Scoot over," the blonde boy whispered, nudging Pony, and as his younger brother complied, he flung an arm over Ponyboy's neck, effectively sandwiching Pony between his two older brothers. In no time at all, Pony could hear his brothers' soft snores and even breathing, signifying that they were deep in sleep. Sighing contentedly, the young Greaser made to follow them, yet as soon as he closed his eyes, he saw a vivid image of himself surrounded by several Socs, sadistic smirks contorting every single one of their handsome faces. Green-grey eyes shot open in panic, and Pony sighed in defeat, resigning himself to a long, sleepless night.  
  
Ponyboy gazed into the pitch darkness of the room forlornly, wishing he could tell his brothers the details of his assault by the Socs earlier that day. They had asked questions, of course, when he had walked into the house that afternoon, but he had skillfully avoided broaching the true topic.  
  
* * * FLASHBACK * * *  
  
Ponyboy crept into the house as quietly as possible, but the creak of the porch steps and squeak of the screen door had alerted the entire house to his presence.  
  
"Ponyboy?" Soda gasped, approaching his younger brother on swift feet. He grasped the delicate chin in one hand and turned Pony's head from side to side, examining his face for injury. Brown eyes widened in outrage, then darkened in anger as they fixated on the dark bruise colouring Pony's jaw.  
  
"What happened?" he demanded, eyes scanning his brother's face. " Who did this?" Ponyboy placed a gentle hand over Soda's, carefully removing his brother's long fingers from his face and giving him a swift peck on the cheek in an effort to reassure.  
  
"I'm fine, Soda," he said soothingly, clasping his brother's hands between his own. "I just had a run-in with some Socs. Dally helped me out." He shrugged, struggling to paste on a comforting smile as he continued on into the living room, but Soda caught his elbow and spun him around, ignoring Pony's startled look.  
  
"Socs?" he hissed, "Who? Who was it? I'll beat the tar outta them, I swear."  
  
Ponyboy tucked a stray lock of ginger hair behind his ear, and tugged a full bottom lip between his teeth nervously.  
  
"I don't know, Soda. They jumped me when I was walkin' home.I didn't see 'em."  
  
Sodapop just stared at him, dark eyes boring intensely into green-grey ones and Pony found himself pleading.  
  
"C'mon, Soda, just let it go," he said softly, "it was my own fault anyway; I was walkin' home by myself.I didn't think to call anyone. I'll be more careful now, ok? Just let it go." He gazed imploringly at his older brother, willing him to agree.  
  
Finally Soda sighed, and pulling him into an one-armed hug, said in defeat, "Ok, you win, honey. I won't hunt down them Socs, but I'm gonna tell Darry no matter what you say."  
  
Ponyboy sighed, nodding in agreement.  
  
"Alright, fine," the auburn-haired boy muttered good-naturedly, "but you have to help me restrain him, k? He's gonna be madder than heck."  
  
Soda chuckled, pressing a kiss to Ponyboy's brow affectionately. "You got a deal." He promised genially.  
  
And Pony was right. When Darry had found out, he'd been all for beating the tar out of any Soc that crossed his path. The other members of the gang were with him to a certain point, even Johnny, who detested violence, and Steve, who had no real great love for Ponyboy, but Pony and Soda had managed to talk them out of it, convincing them of the futility of jumping Socs. Throughout the discussion, Pony had been watching the door anxiously, half-expecting Dally to storm in and reveal the rest of the story, but Dally hadn't been seen within a mile-radius of the Curtis house.  
  
Pony didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.  
  
* * *  
  
As Ponyboy thought about it, he found that the fact that he had to keep this a secret from his brothers was immensely disturbing, for never before had he kept secrets from them. A shudder ran down his spine, and as he cuddled closer to his brothers, a chilling realisation made his blood run cold.  
  
He had to face this alone. 


	3. Friends

*Look to chapter one for warnings and disclaimers.  
  
  
  
Response to reviews:  
  
ModestVanity: THANK YOU! That's really all I can manage at the moment...THANK YOU! *ahem* Sorry about that. But really, I love hearing from you...your reviews always make me feel so amazingly great. *grins* Sometimes I feel like I could hug you after reading them, so *hugs*. LOL. So here's the deal: you keep on reviewing, I'll keep on writing. Can't wait to hear from you again!  
  
Tashue: Well, now it's my turn to blush. LOL. And hey, don't think I didn't write that scene partly because I liked the mental image. *sigh* Yum. And no, nothing like that has happened to me before (thank goodness), but thank you for the compliment. Anyway, I give you thank yous in extreme quantities for your reviews. THANKS!   
  
Vampire-Slaying-Greaser-Gal: Omigod! I practically danced after I read your review; I can't possibly tell you how flattered I was and still am. I can't believe that people like this story so much, but I'm ecstatic that they do. Please keep reading and reviewing!  
  
caroline: I know what you mean; I have an unhealthy hatred for Socs, myself. Well, not so much for Cherry and Randy, because they realised the errors of their ways and helped the Greasers, but definitely for most Socs. Anyway, thanks so much for your review!  
  
LadyJessy: I have to admit; I have to remind myself constantly to keep writing with the speech patterns, so I'm really glad that they blend with the fic well. Does Soda really use 'honey' a lot? I'll have to check that out...am I really one of your favourite authors? Yay! *dances* Thanks! Keep reading and I will definitely keep writing!  
  
killslay: I'd always pictured the brothers close like that too...well, not 'close' like 'that'. *ahem* Anyway, thanks for the review, and I see what you mean about the scene where Ponyboy came home, but it was mainly to express the protectiveness that the gang felt towards its youngest members. So really, it wasn't just because it happened to Pony, but because it happened to Johnny too. I realise that it wasn't very clear, but it'll become clear soon, I promise.  
  
Also, my thanks go out to MissLKid, Estelle Yavetil, redrose2310, litzy bitsy and becca hood! Thanks guys!  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Ponyboy watched, fascinated, as the first rays of the dawn spilled through the window, bathing the small room in warm golden light. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, shrugging Soda's arm off his neck and rolling in the other direction, only to come into contact with a broad, solid chest. Darry.   
  
'Oh glory, I'll never be able to move now.' Pony thought miserably. He was sore and aching from the beating he'd endured the previous afternoon and his limbs felt lethargic, his only rest having been a light doze for the short span of an hour, and even then his dreaming mind had been racing, preventing any true repose.  
  
The auburn-haired boy gazed longingly at the window, wishing for the peace the sunrise could grant him, all the while shifting subtly in an effort to extract himself from the protective grasp of his brothers. At last, he managed to inch as far away from Sodapop as possible, flip onto his stomach, and crawl over Darry, blessing his oldest brother's deep state of slumber and his own light weight as he did so.  
  
Pulling on a T-shirt of Soda's that he felt fairly swamped in, Ponyboy slipped out of the bedroom, shutting the door with only a faint click and leaving his brothers to sleep undisturbed. He padded down the carpeted hallway in only his boxers and the oversized T-shirt, hugging himself around his middle and roughly rubbing his bare arms where gooseflesh had begun to form, courtesy of his sleepless night and the cool breeze blowing through the house.   
  
Pausing in his stride long enough only to grab a quilt from the couch, Ponyboy walked briskly out into the morning air, settling down on the porch steps with his back to the railing and eyes focused eastwards, towards the rising sun. The young Greaser sighed happily, green-grey eyes drinking in the sight of the colourful scene greedily. Pony snuggled deeper into the embrace of the old quilt, finally able to relax. He knew that most of the gang, even his brothers, couldn't even pretend to understand his love for both the rising and setting sun, but he found that when they asked, he was at a loss for words with which to explain. It was something deeper than simple beauty, truth be told, though it was of course breathtaking. For Ponyboy, it was sometimes the only thing that could remind him that life hadn't forsaken him; with such a blessing of beauty, he was reminded that there was always goodness in the world if one simply looked for it, no matter where on Earth you found yourself.   
  
The dawn was stunning that morning, even more radiant than usual in Pony's opinion. Eyes fixated on the dazzling orb, he let his head rest lightly against the wooden bars supporting the railing, oblivious to the fact that his eyelids drooped sleepily as his mind registered the chipping paint of the wood...  
  
"Hey, Ponyboy!"  
  
Pony's head snapped up at the shout, body jerking in surprise as his mind registered hazily the grinning face of Two-Bit directly in his immediate line of vision. He groaned, letting his head fall back against the wooden railing as he tried half-heartedly to smack Two-Bit weakly. His good-humoured friend dodged out of the way easily, plunking down beside him on the porch step and punching him lightly in the shoulder.  
  
"Hey Two-Bit," Ponyboy mumbled drowsily, shutting his eyes against the irritatingly bright light, and adjusting the quilt over his body. He shifted, and as ginger hair fell like a curtain across his face, it caught the light, highlighting the auburn strands and tinting the silky locks gold. Two-Bit found himself distracted by the play of light on reddish-brown hair, but as Pony shoved the hair from his face, he caught sight of the purple bruise stark against otherwise unblemished skin, and drew in a sharp breath at the ugly display.   
  
Two-Bit was used to seeing such things of course- he was a Greaser after all- but not on Ponyboy. Pony rarely fought, by both his own wishes and his brothers' firm decree to fight only in self-defence, and even then it was seldom to see him hurt, as the auburn-haired Greaser could fight fairly well and was always surrounded by the protective circle of the gang. Until yesterday, that is.   
  
Two-Bit cracked his knuckles purposely, resisting the urge to punch something as he thought of the attack on the youngest of the gang.   
  
'First Johnny, and now Ponyboy,' he thought angrily to himself. 'Damn cowards, those fuckin' Socs are, attackin' the youngest kids they can find...'  
  
He shook his head furiously, and pulled his treasured switchblade from his jacket pocket, flipping it open and shut idly just to occupy himself and not let his anger overwhelm him. Two-Bit was usually cheerful and well known as the wisecracker of the gang, but at that moment he felt as if he couldn't crack a grin if his life depended on it.  
  
A low hiss to his right drew his attention, and grey eyes slid to Ponyboy, watching with mild concern and vast amusement as the young Greaser carefully prodded the bruise on his jaw, both the visible wincing and minor sounds of pain tribute to the discomfort it caused him. The elder boy batted the hand away, managing to plaster on a smile as green-grey orbs gazed at him from beneath lowered lashes questioningly.  
  
"Don't do that," Two-Bit admonished gently, turning away to hide the seriousness in his eyes. "You'll just be makin' it worse, kid." He pretended to concentrate intently on lighting his cigarette and avoided looking at Ponyboy directly. The younger boy, however, was still drowsy from his rude awakening, and failed to take notice of his friend's abnormal body language. Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, he murmured under his breath darkly, muttering unintelligibly, but it seemed Two-Bit caught at least the gist of it, as his smile transformed from forced to genuine in a split second as he laughed loudly.  
  
"Don't be getting' mouthy, Ponyboy." He scolded playfully, stormy eyes now twinkling with his usual mischief, "That mouth'll need to be washed out with soap if you keep up that cussing."   
  
Ponyboy glared at Two-Bit heatedly, but reluctantly obeyed, setting his chin in the palm of his hand as his elbows rested on his knees, as he grumbled, "Well, I wouldn't be cussing if a certain Greaser hadn't scared the livin' daylights outta me." he groaned, stretching languidly. "Why'd you wake me up, anyhow?"   
  
Two-Bit flashed him a cocky smile, replying laughingly, "Shoot kid, you really do need a babysitter." He caught Pony's hand in mid-air as the younger Greaser attempted to hit him, still grinning like a maniac. " You were asleep on your porch, Ponyboy." The rusty-haired Greaser continued, his tone suddenly serious. "Anyone coulda just come by and jumped ya. Wasn't exactly the smartest thing ya coulda done, 'specially after yesterday."  
  
At the mention of the recent encounter with the Socs, Pony's eyes shot to his friend, and he studied Two-Bit curiously as the other Greaser shifted uneasily on the porch steps, the wooden boards creaking under his weight. Two-Bit didn't usually dwell on past events; what was done was done for him. He merely dealt with the situation and then moved on, so, truly, even simply bringing up the topic of the assault was uncharacteristic of him.  
  
"Two-Bit?"   
  
Two-Bit met Ponyboy's eyes frankly. "Yeah, Pony?"  
  
Pony cocked his head to the side, green-grey orbs searching his friend's face, and brow crinkling in puzzlement. His voice, when he answered, was somewhat detached.  
  
"You're acting awful strange, Two-Bit. Everyone is, actually. I mean, it's not like no one's ever been jumped before... you've been jumped plenty of times, right? Steve even got attacked last week." He paused, eyes narrowing questioningly. "What's the deal?"  
  
The older Greaser took a long drag on his cigarette, mulling thoughtfully over the question. "Well," he began, "it's just that when it's you, you and Johnny I mean, that the Socs are hittin', it's us too...when you guys are hurt, we're hurt, ya dig?"  
  
Ponyboy didn't understand in fact. Two-Bit's words confused him immensely, but he decided that he wouldn't press him further; his friend seemed agitated enough. He'd ask Sodapop about it later, he decided. For now, all that was on his mind was his grumbling stomach, demanding immediate nourishment. It seemed to attract Two-Bit's attention as well, for the elder Greaser cocked an eyebrow at him, the practiced gesture emphasizing the amusement evident on his handsome features.  
  
"We might as well go inside, then." Ponyboy mumbled, cheeks pink as he avoided Two-Bit's laughing eyes. He pushed himself to his feet, one arm on the railing to keep his balance and the other wrapped around his waist, holding the patched quilt in place.  
  
The rusty-haired boy grinned, suggesting brightly, "Yeah, you can make me breakfast!" Pony just mock-glared at him silently for a moment, full lips threatening to curve into a smile at the easy, infectious grin on Two-Bit's face. He shook his head ruefully as he lost the battle and smiled broadly, turning towards the door once more.   
  
"Come on." Ponyboy said lightly as he entered the house, tossing the quilt carelessly on the arm of Darry's chair and right next to one of Soda's shoes, as he made his way to the kitchen.   
  
Two-Bit stayed where he was briefly, still chuckling, before leaping to his feet, and running into the house after the auburn-haired boy, deliberately slamming the screen door as noisily as possible before Ponyboy could even open his mouth to yell a warning against it.   
  
Two-Bit launched himself onto the couch, laying down comfortably, body stretched out along the length of the sofa, and arms folded behind his head, as he waited patiently for the inevitable reprimand. Eyes closed, he counted down on his fingers: four...three...two...one...  
  
"Two-Bit!" Pony scolded angrily, stepping out of the kitchen doorway, eggs in hand. "Don't do that! Soda and Darry are still sleepin'."  
  
Two-Bit remained silent, Ponyboy's allure causing him to eye the young Greaser with interest. The boy's ginger-coloured hair was somewhat ruffled, but lovely as always as it fell about his finely sculpted face, and high cheekbones were slightly coloured with annoyance, as full lips formed a pout. The over-large T-shirt he was wearing had slipped off one shoulder, revealing the bare, creamy skin underneath. He was positively striking, and perfectly desirable.  
  
As Two-Bit felt himself becoming hard, he shook himself roughly, refusing to give into that particular temptation. He liked sex, to be sure, but he'd never fallen in love and wasn't planning on doing so in the near future. He had no need for love-his friends were everything. However, that meant that his relationships were therefore purely based on physical attraction and easy conversation, and he would not damage his relationship with the gang by even fantasizing about Ponyboy. It was wrong in every aspect-Pony was too young, too sensitive, too innocent and he was also a friend. Absolutely forbidden territory.   
  
'Even if we could get together, I'd just hurt him, and no way am I gonna do that,' Two-Bit thought, 'but it wouldn't matter, 'cause even if we did get together, Soda and Darry'd have my hide.' He reasoned mutely, laughing quietly as he headed into the kitchen, where Ponyboy had returned after realising his words of rebuke were falling on deaf ears. But when Two-Bit leaned against the kitchen doorframe, eyes lingering on Ponyboy's slim waist and slightly curved hips as the young Greaser stood frying eggs over the stove, his laughter stopped abruptly.  
  
'What a catch he'd be, though.' He couldn't help but think to himself, sighing softly.  
  
At the quiet sound, Ponyboy looked over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth rising in a half-smile when he saw his friend standing there.  
  
"Well don't just stand there, Two-Bit," he ordered good-naturedly, "get some cake out of the freezer, and put some plates on the table. Enough for everybody, though; I'm sure they'll all be here soon."  
  
Rooted to the spot, Two-Bit could only blink for a moment. Chores? He never had to do chores, ever. Not even his own mother could make him do housework. Yet here was this small, fourteen year-old boy giving orders that he obviously expected to be followed, from the way the way he was looking impatiently at his older friend. Two-Bit glared back coolly, not willing to give in to the younger Greaser.   
  
"Look, I don't even do chores at home for my own mom, kid, never mind here. I don't work." He said forcefully, emphasizing especially the three last words.  
  
Ponyboy stopped cooking, turned around, and was about to answer when all of a sudden a yell sounded out.  
  
"Hey! Y'all here?"  
  
"We're in here, Steve!" shouted Ponyboy, "don't slam the-"  
  
SLAM! Steve strolled into the kitchen, the sound of the door slamming echoing throughout the house.  
  
"Hey. Where's Soda and Superman?" he asked immediately, heading over to the freezer, and searching through it for chocolate cake.  
  
"They're sleepin'." Ponyboy replied neutrally, taking the frying pan off the burner and turning off the stove.  
  
"I-"  
  
"Hey," Two-Bit interrupted in a puzzled tone, "how come they're not awake? Don't they gotta work?"  
  
"Naw, Two-Bit; it's Saturday. They're both off." Steve said, grinning broadly. "Me and Soda are gonna head over to the Dingo later...maybe pick up some broads. He could use it after that whole thing with Sandy."  
  
A subtle narrowing of Steve's eyes as they flitted over to Ponyboy, unnoticed by Two-Bit but seen clearly by the youngest Greaser. He shrank back from the dark orbs that gazed warningly at him, cautioning him to refrain from asking to join them.  
  
As a peace offering, Ponyboy handed Steve a plate of eggs and a fork and knife, indicating for him to sit down at the table to eat. Handing Two-Bit a plate as well, Pony exited the kitchen and raced down the hallway towards his bedroom. Never breaking stride, he yanked the door open and dove onto the bed, landing solidly on Darry's chest.  
  
"Oomph!" Blue-green eyes open slowly, still clouded with the fog of sleep.  
  
"Ponyboy?" Darry asked quietly, rubbing his eyes with a fist as Pony folded his arms across his oldest brother's chest and rested his chin on them, wide green-grey orbs focused on his brother.  
  
"Mornin', Dar," Ponyboy greeted brightly, a radiant smile lighting his face, "you gotta get up."  
  
The eldest Curtis smiled softly, eyes warm as he gazed affectionately at his baby brother. "And why's that?" He yawned. "I don't even gotta work today."  
  
Ponyboy jabbed him in the chest, protesting mildly, "Yeah, but I made breakfast and it's gonna go cold. Are you really gonna let all my hard work go to waste?"  
  
Darry laughed quietly, holding up his hands in surrender at Pony's insistent look.  
  
"Ok, ok, I'm coming. Good luck trying to get Soda up, though; he sleeps like the damn dead sometimes." He declared mirthfully as Pony's eyes slid to Sodapop, whose handsome face was still relaxed and content in slumber.  
  
"I'll let Steve wake him up," Ponyboy decided, climbing off his brother "he'll probly have more luck."  
  
"Probably." Darry agreed as he followed the younger boy out of the room and into the kitchen, where his breakfast awaited him. He did a double take when he saw Two-Bit.  
  
"What are you doin' up so early?" he asked with comic astonishment as he sat down at the table, nodding his thanks to Ponyboy as he took the plate offered to him.  
  
Two-Bit stopped shovelling forkfuls of cake into his mouth long enough to swallow and grin at Darry with chocolate-covered teeth.  
  
"Lookin' for Dal, actually." He said "The damn Greaser owes me money from a poker game yesterday. He was so wasted, it was like stealing candy from a baby, playing with him." He finished, amusement ringing in every word.  
  
"Is that so?" a quiet voice cut in from the doorway.  
  
Two-Bit froze, fork in mid-air and turned, face a tad pale.  
  
"Hey, Dal," He greeted shakily, "what's up?"  
  
All he got in response was a slap upside the head as Dally sat down in the chair next to him, ice-blue eyes flashing.  
  
"Don't be talking trash like that 'bout me, ya clown. I got a rep to keep up." He spat as he pulled a pack of Kools from his front pocket. He was still muttering as he lit the cigarette. "Glory... like candy from a baby...fuck that...I ain't never been that drunk..."  
  
The rest of the gang simply laughed at the humorous picture of an offended Dally and reprimanded Two-Bit, and the latter joined in after a moment, passing Dally a piece of chocolate cake apologetically.  
  
"Naw." Dally declined, "I got a nasty hangover. I'd just throw it up."  
  
Three heads nodded sympathetically, while Ponyboy searched through the cabinets for the aspirin, offering it to Dally once he found it.  
  
"No need, kid." He refused once again. "It'll go away eventually." He looked around the room; suddenly realising it was much too quiet.  
  
"Where's Soda?"   
  
Steve snorted, replying with a smirk, "He's still sleepin', the lazy-"  
  
"Hey, Steve," Darry interrupted, "go wake him up, will ya?"  
  
Steve leapt to his feet eagerly, banging on the walls and hollering Soda's name as he raced down the narrow hallway.  
  
Dally chuckled, leaning back in his chair and shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight that bled into the kitchen window, illuminating the room.  
  
"What are you guys doin' today?" he asked, abandoning the effort for protection from the light and rubbing his temples furiously in an attempt to banish the agonising headache.  
  
There was a collective murmur of 'I dunno's and 'not sure's, as he looked at each gang member questioningly.  
  
"We should play football or somethin'." He suggested half-jokingly.  
  
Two-Bit burst into loud peals of laughter, his grin so wide it threatened to split his face in two.  
  
"You can barely stand, Dal," he managed to choke out, "how in hell are you gonna play football?"  
  
Dally opened his mouth to retort, but Ponyboy beat him to it.  
  
"Oh, lay off him, Two-Bit." He turned his attention to Dally. "Don't mind him, Dally; he's been like this all morning. I'd swear he was pregnant or somethin' from all the mood swings he's been having."  
  
Dally threw back his head, laughing loudly, and when he saw Two-Bit blushing, too flustered to form a reply, and Darry grinning wildly at the sight, he couldn't stop tears of mirth from coursing down his face. He wiped them away hurriedly, still chuckling when Steve and Soda entered the room, Soda wearing only one shoe.  
  
"Hey guys," the blonde greeted enthusiastically, before asking, slightly embarrassed, "any of you seen my shoe?"  
  
"It's on Darry's chair, Soda." Ponyboy answered, smiling gently at his brother's absentmindedness.  
  
"Thanks, kiddo." Soda said, grinning wildly, darting into the living room, only to race back into the kitchen a moment later, hopping on one foot as he tried to put on his shoe.  
  
"Me and Stevie are gonna go out, probly play some football. You guys game?" he asked excitedly, dark eyes shining brightly.  
  
"Yeah, we're comin'." Darry replied as he stood up, shooting an amused glance at Two-Bit.  
  
"Alright! Let's go!" Steve cried.  
  
Five Greasers raced to the door, four somersaulting and cartwheeling out of it, one stumbling, while the last followed serenely, leaning against the doorframe and calling out, "I'll come find you guys later! I'm gonna wait and see if Johnny comes over!"  
  
"Alright, Pony, but don't wait too long!" yelled Sodapop, jumping on Steve's back as they ran down the street.  
  
Ponyboy watched them go for a minute, returning to the kitchen only after they turned the corner, out of his sight.  
  
He sighed as he spied the mess in the kitchen, realising that, even though he had cooked, he now had to clean everything up.  
  
"Oh well." He said to himself. "Soda and Darry both deserve a break."   
  
He looked around the room warily, disliking the silence of the house, as it made it all too easy for the memory of his nightmare to return. He shivered and began cleaning, hoping to distract himself.  
  
'I hope Johnny gets here soon.' He thought forlornly.  
  
So there is a nice, long chapter for you guys. I hope you liked it, even though I know the ending was terrible...absolutely terrible. But I couldn't think of anything else! Anyway, I recently saw the movie...Rob Lowe is totally hot! *drools* Oh yeah, and you can thank Tashue for the little slashy part with Two-Bit, because I adore that pairing now, thanks to her fics. But, the choice of whether it's Two-Bit/Ponyboy or Dally/Ponyboy is up to you guys. Vote for the pairing you want! So yeah, please review! Until next time! *grins* 


	4. Further Encounters

*See first chapter for warnings and disclaimers.  
  
killslay: Oh, no problem about clearing up the overprotective gang thing...thanks for asking me about it. Sorry if some of the stuff isn't clear; I try to make everything fit, but sometimes it doesn't work out that way. *sheepish grin*. So, if you have any more questions, please ask! But you'll just have to wait and see what happens...  
  
ModestVanity: Thank you! After I write a chapter, I always look for your reviews, because it just makes me feel so good to hear from you, not just for your very welcome praise, but it's just awesome to see that you're enjoying the story so much! Thanks for your support, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!  
  
Tashue: I haven't really been reading much lately...is your fic posted yet? Anyway, thanks, I always try to make endings have an impact...they are, for me, key elements in chapters, because they make people want to come back and keep reading. But, yeah, I love the movie...Dally was great-Matt Dillon is VERY hot, but I think Rob Lowe is gorgeous! He wasn't in the movie enough, though. *sigh* Oh, well. Please, keep reviewing!  
  
Hell's Angels: LOL! The scene between you and Heaven's Demons made me laugh, but I'm glad you both like the story, even if you can't agree on a pairing. Hope to hear from you again.  
  
cassie: Yeah, Dally does die in the book, but remember, this is fanfiction; anything can happen! *mysterious music* Oooo, scary...  
  
Courtney M.: Yeah, Dally definitely does seem cold, but maybe Ponyboy could warm him up? Geez, that was so cheesy, but anyway, Two-Bit getting skinned alive does make somewhat of an amusing picture, doesn't it? Well, we'll see...glad you like the story-you keep reviewing, and I'll keep updating (even if the story is progressing VERY slowly).   
  
Thanks also go out to Lin, tt, Mouse, cat, litzy bitsy, ~Lupin~, molly, redrose2310 (by the way, Johnny wasn't raped, just beat up), arimel, BlackRose1356, Hanah, david, True-Slytherin-gurl, whitney, brian-blaze15, Chibi-Aya-chan and MissLKid! Thanks loads, you guys! Keep reviewing!   
  
Chapter 4: "Further Encounters"  
  
Johnny entered the Curtis home to the sound of blaring cartoons, a spotless kitchen, and Ponyboy, dressed in slightly loose jeans that hung low on slender hips, and a large, dark green T-shirt, perched on the arm of the large sofa, grinning as he greeted his best friend.  
  
"Hey, Johnnnycake, how ya doin'?" he said brightly, raising a hand in greeting as the slam of the screen door attracted his attention. A cigarette dangled precariously from his mouth, but inhaling deeply one last time, Ponyboy put in out in the ashtray that lay on the coffee table. It was one that Two-Bit had swiped from the DX, and the gas station's bright red logo peeked out from beneath a pile of undoubtedly fresh ashes.  
  
Johnny managed to plaster on a half-smile as he approached the younger Greaser, but his eyes caught and lingered on the bruise colouring Ponyboy's jaw, and smile faltering, he sighed deeply.   
  
"This is getting outta control..." He murmured thoughtfully, dark eyes uneasy.  
  
Green-grey eyes slid upwards in annoyance as Ponyboy threw himself onto the couch, groaning, "Not you too!" He made a muffled sound of exasperation. "Everybody's been treatin' this whole thing like I almost died or somethin'."   
  
'And they don't even know the half of it.' He added mentally, a shiver running down his spine as menacing faces flashed across his mind's eye.  
  
Johnny studied his younger friend thoughtfully as he claimed Ponyboy's discarded position on the arm of the chair, and replied quietly, "They're just worried. You can't blame 'em, Pony, they care about you."  
  
The auburn-haired boy sighed deeply, eyes closing in resignation, dark lashes standing out in stark contrast to creamy skin.  
  
"I know they do," he began softly, "but I don't get why they're makin' this great big fuss...it's not a huge deal."  
  
Johnny laughed lightly, causing Ponyboy to open his eyes and sit up in confusion. Eyebrows drew together in bewilderment as the younger Greaser waited impatiently for his friend to continue, and when it became apparent that Johnny wasn't going to elaborate, Pony demanded, irritation plainly visible, "What?"  
  
The dark-haired boy grinned unabashedly, his mood lightening unexpectedly as he teased his younger friend. He drew a leg up to his chest, resting his chin on the knee, as his other leg dangled off the couch, and Ponyboy marvelled at the relaxed pose, one he rarely ever saw his friend assume as a result of his recent assault and abusive family. Studying his friend's rich chocolate eyes, suddenly bright, Pony was saddened to realise that he was one of the only people ever to see Johnny happy, and he couldn't help but think that everyone else was missing out.   
  
Ponyboy-as well as the rest of the gang-knew that Johnny was a rare type of person, one that a lucky few had the privilege of keeping company with during the span of their lifetimes, and should cherish. And with that knowledge, they certainly did their best, especially considering the abominable circumstances of Johnny's home life, to care for him, and make sure he knew his own worth.  
  
'It ain't fair that Johnny has to live like that,' Ponyboy thought resentfully, 'with those, those people as his parents...he don't deserve it...he don't deserve bein' a Greaser...none of us do...'  
  
"Whoo-hoo, Ponyboy!"  
  
Ponyboy snapped back to reality as Johnny's voice rang out in the room, loud enough to wake a horde of sleeping bears out of hibernation, or, more astonishingly, Two-Bit out of a drunk stupor. He deftly caught the wrist of the hand moving back and forth incessantly across his field of vision in a waving motion, and laughed at the surprise on Johnny's face.   
  
"What's with you?" Pony asked laughingly.  
  
A squeak of indignation escaped Johnny's mouth before he could stop himself. "What's with ME? YOU'RE the one that was off in the clouds" he shot back huffily, pouting childishly. He regarded his absent-minded friend thoughtfully, and his voice adopted a slightly pensive tone. "I could swear you live in a dreamworld or somethin' sometimes, Ponyboy."   
  
"Nah," Pony replied without hesitation, grinning broadly "I'm just imaginative." He concluded brightly with a great flourish of hands in indication of a well-rehearsed reply to such a comment.   
  
"You say that way too often for it to be true, Pony. Besides, what's the difference?" Johnny asked, chuckling good-naturedly.  
  
"I could take the time to explain that, Johnnycake," Ponyboy said sweetly, sniggering as Johnny stuck out his tongue at the use of the popular nickname. "But we've been over this loads of times before anyway, and-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, it's just too subtle a difference for me to grasp and blah blah." Johnny interrupted unapologetically. "Y'know, I really think these insults to my intelligence are getting' outta hand."   
  
Ponyboy mock-glared at him. "Well, you deserve it for interruptin' me, Johnny Cade. But you'll just have to lick your wounds later, 'cause we got a football game to get to. The others have started already, and I told 'em we'd come as soon as you got here."   
  
He sprang up from his place on the couch and sprinted out the door and down the porch steps, stopping only when he realised Johnny was following at a much more moderate pace.  
  
"John-ny!" he whined as his friend stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. "Hurry up!"  
  
"Aw, calm down, Pony, I can't run as fast as you anyway. 'Sides, it's your own fault for callin' me Johnnycake."  
  
Ponyboy laughed outright, the joyous sound loud and sweet, full lips stretched into an impossibly large smile.  
  
"I can't believe you really hate the name that much, Johnny." Pony said, eyes sparkling with mirth. "I mean, the whole gang calls you Johnnycake-it can't be that bad."  
  
Johnny eyed him doubtfully. "That's what you think. It's a little kid name, Pony, and I'm supposed to be a big, tough Greaser. Tuff. How am I supposed to be tuff with a nickname that ends in a food, huh?"  
  
Ponyboy bowed his head, letting sun-streaked auburn hair across his face like a silk curtain while he attempted to muffle his giggles by stuffing his fist in his mouth. However, it appeared that he didn't do a very good job.  
  
Johnny sighed, a pained expression gracing his tanned features as he took in the painfully obvious scene. "Go ahead; laugh out loud."   
  
Ponyboy obeyed instantly, his slender form bent over, hands on his knees, with the force of his laughter. Calming down after a few moments, Pony stood up straight, shoving gold-tinted auburn locks out of his face and observing his closest friend, a wide grin still adorning his lovely countenance.   
  
"Sorry, Johnny, but you gotta admit, it's kinda funny." Pony said in a voice still slightly breathless from laughter, green-grey orbs alight with amusement.  
  
"I don't gotta do nothin'." Johnny argued, fishing in the pocket of his leather jacket for a smoke as they resumed walking. "It ain't funny...I don't know why you guys call me that anyway...it's a fine stupid name."  
  
"It ain't nothin' of the sort." Ponyboy reasoned as he slung an arm around Johnny's shoulders, pocketing his lighter once more after having lit his friend's cigarette. "It's a way for us to show we care about you, Johnny. I'd swear on my life no one else even notices you don't like it...that you practically flinch every time we call you that. Not even Sodapop. I didn't even see it 'til 'bout a week ago. I really don't even mean to use it, neither, it just sorta comes out. Sorry." He finished awkwardly.  
  
"Don't even worry 'bout it, Ponyboy. I'm just afraid some of the other hoods or Socs'll hear it someday and I'll never live it down." Johnny replied uncomfortably, his friend's graceful limb sliding from around his shoulders.  
  
"Shoot, Johnny, we'd never do that to ya. And even if someone did hear it, Dally or Two-Bit would put 'em in their place." He proclaimed surely. "Anybody that tried to hurt ya would get the tar beat out of 'em by anyone in the gang. Even me." He affirmed cheekily.  
  
"Yeah, that's for sure." Johnny agreed quietly, grinning as he pictured the scene.  
  
"Hey!" Ponyboy suddenly exclaimed, startling both Johnny and himself into stillness. At his friend's questioning look, he stated, "You never answered my question." The blank stare he received in response prompted him to elaborate. "I asked you about the gang-why they were actin' so strange 'bout me bein' jumped and all."  
  
"Ahh," Johnny began, his features brightening with understanding. "I still can't believe you haven't figured it out already- I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."   
  
Ponyboy made a face at his friend's choice of words, and the easy manner in which they were delivered, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the pavement in embarrassment.   
  
"Shoot, Johnny, I dunno why everyone thinks that anyhow. Ya'll are always goin' on 'bout how I got no common sense."  
  
"Heck, never mind that; you're probly smarter than the whole lot of us put together." Johnny declared cheerfully, cuffing Ponyboy upside the head in good humour.  
  
"Ouch! Cut it out!" Ponyboy exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head as he mumbled impatiently, "Anyway, enough 'bout my brains and all...are you ever gonna get to the point?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting' there." Said Johnny tolerantly. "Anyone ever told you that you change moods too damn quick?"  
  
"No quicker than anyone else in the gang. I mean, look at Dally and Two-Bit- they're their usual selves one minute, then the next they're all protective like Darry. And Darry, he's angry, then suddenly worried in like a split second. Don't even get me started on Steve... golly, makes my head spin tryin' to figure the gang out."  
  
Johnny chuckled, shaking his head in bemusement. "Yeah, I can sure see why- heck, you're blind as bat. I can't believe that you don't see it; they're tryin' to protect us-you and me-'cause we're the youngest. They think we're helpless or somethin', 'cause we're smaller and everything, so they think they gotta protect us, watch out for us."  
  
Ponyboy simply blinked at the revelation, his face a blank as he considered it. After a moment or so, his brow creased in anger, eyes clouding over to a stormy-grey.  
  
"Well that ain't true! I know that's why Darry's always on my case, 'cause he's watchin' out for me, and same with Soda, but I thought the other guys thought I was one of them. I don't need them to watch out for me just 'cause I'm smaller-I can take care of myself!"  
  
"Pony, it ain't a question of whether or not we can take care of ourselves. The whole gang knows you can fight, even Darry says so, but they still wanna look out for us. Shoot, I'd say they probly can't even help it." Johnny said quietly, blowing smoke rings absentmindedly.  
  
"Yeah..." Ponyboy agreed reluctantly, "And they're not bad about it-obviously, 'cause I didn't even realise...or at least they haven't been up 'til now. Guess it's kinda my own fault anyhow though, for getting' jumped 'n all."  
  
"It is kinda annoyin' though...I mean I can't even go anywhere by myself anymore...it was one of the only pluses to havin' non-lovin' parents, and now, POOF, gone. Just 'cause of some stupid Socs." Stated Johnny bitterly.  
  
"Aw, shucks, Johnny, it's like you said- the gang's just watchin' out for ya. Dunno what we'd do without ya." Pony said soothingly, patting his friend on the back comfortingly, smiling when he relaxed.  
  
The two continued walking in companionable silence, needing nothing more than each other's presence to feel at ease. It was a lovely day, the vast expanse of sky visible to their eyes cloudless and a brilliant blue, a light breeze rustling the treetops of the magnificent oaks and maples bordering both sides of the sidewalk. Ponyboy thought he could have composed a poem for the beauty of the early summer day. Bright, vivid colours, bathed in the golden radiance of the sun, weaved and danced through the mixed worlds of city and nature, giving shade and texture to aspects of such an environment that would have been dull and lacking without them.   
  
Suddenly, Johnny felt Ponyboy freeze and tense beside him, his younger friend's demeanour unexpectedly grave when Johnny gazed at him questioningly.  
  
"What's the matter?" the elder Greaser asked.  
  
In response, Pony shakily pointed to the sight upon which green-grey eyes were fixated in horror.  
  
Socs.  
  
A red Mustang, which had before only been keeping pace with the two, was now pulling alongside the curb, its occupants eyeing them with morbid interest.   
  
Though Ponyboy's impassive face implied courage and fearlessness, he was in possession of only one of those qualities, and as fear gripped him tightly in its icy hold, he desperately craved the other. He was terrified, almost paralysed by the all-consuming fear, for he recognised these particular arrogant, cruel embodiments of testosterone. How could he not, having crossed paths with them only the day before? And he knew, gazing into their lust-filled eyes as they ran along the dips and curves of his slim body, that they most certainly recognised him as well.  
  
He didn't realise that he was slowly, yet relentlessly, backing away until he encountered a solid resistance in his path of retreat, forcing him to halt. He then dazedly heard Johnny's soft voice murmuring in his ear.  
  
"Ponyboy, let's split. We can make it to the lot if we run, and if they follow us, the whole gang will be there to back us up. Let's go, on the count of three."  
  
Ponyboy snapped out of his stupor just in time to hear Johnny whisper"...three!" Then they were running; Pony slowing his steps just enough to stay in time with Johnny as they flew across the pavement. Their footsteps pounded against the concrete as they ran, both unaware of whether they were being chased or not, and minds focussed only on reaching their destination.  
  
The two slowed only when entering the lot, and by then, Johnny was completely out of breath, sucking in great mouthfuls of air as he massaged a stitch in his side.  
  
"Man," he gasped, "I really gotta stop smokin'."  
  
Ponyboy, only slightly breathless, laughed lightly, though there was still a nervous edge to it. "Yeah," he agreed, "that's what Coach keeps telling me too."  
  
They slowly approached the rest of the gang where they stood assembled in the middle of the football field, right on the 50 yard line, discussing it would seem, as they drew closer, the teams.  
  
"Nah, that ain't fair! You can't have Darry AND Steve!" Two-Bit exclaimed, idly juggling his switch and the weatherworn football. Sodapop was watching him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation and he quickly snatched the football out of mid-air before the blade, having escaped Two-Bit's clutches, could pierce its leather skin. The rusty-haired Greaser's only response to Soda's cocked eyebrow was a sheepish grin as the switch fell harmlessly to the ground.   
  
Soda's rolling eyes caught sight of Johnny and Ponyboy first, and his trademark grin lit up his handsome face as he greeted them exuberantly.  
  
"'Bout time you guys got here!" he cried, bounding over to them like an excited puppy.  
  
"Yeah, well we were..." Johnny's voice trailed off at a pointed look from Ponyboy, and glancing back at Sodapop, he merely shrugged, leaving the sentence unfinished. Soda's liquid brown eyes flitted back and forth between the two youngest gang members, and it seemed that after a few moments he finally drew some sort of conclusion from his observations, because he demanded, in a tone that brooked no argument, "What happened?"  
  
Ponyboy opened his mouth to speak, but Soda beat him to it. "And don't even think about lyin', 'cause you're both horrible at it." He said firmly. "So fess up, come on."   
  
Johnny sighed, and spotting Ponyboy's set jaw, he realised that it would be him that would have to speak, as it seemed Pony would prefer to take knowledge of the whole incident to his grave. And he said the rest of the gang was overreacting. Yeah, right.  
  
"We just ran into a few Socs is all." Johnny said casually.   
  
"Man, seems like you're havin' awful bad luck lately, eh, Ponyboy? A run-in with Socs two days in a row; that's gotta be some kinda record." Soda offered with a slight grin, and at his words, all the tension drained from Ponyboy's shoulders.   
  
It was obvious he'd expected his brother to lose his temper, judging by the nervous way Pony had been eyeing the wheat-haired Greaser. However, to Soda's credit, he could take everything in stride and react to any circumstances with a grin. It was one of the reasons Ponyboy adored him so much, particularly since, though Pony knew Soda was angry, his brother was putting that ability to good use at that moment, just for his sake.  
  
  
  
"What's this I hear about Socs?" Came a deep, husky voice from behind them.  
  
Turning to face Two-Bit, and the rest of the gang, as they gathered round, Johnny proceeded to explain shortly what had happened. His manner was crisp and direct, which in itself was rare, so the rest of the gang wisely decided not to press the subject, particularly since Ponyboy hadn't uttered a word the entire time.   
  
It was clear, however, that the five other Greasers were very ill at ease with the situation, and at the very least, intensely angry. Dally's ice-blue eyes had lingered on Ponyboy the whole time, and a slow-burning fire was sizzling through his veins, building up gradually to a red-hot rage as he thought of the harm that could have come to the two youngest of the group. He realised he would eventually explode with the force of it, but knew he could postpone that moment until he was in more, appropriate, company. Say, that of perhaps a few West-Side rich kids?   
  
Suddenly, wide misty-green eyes lifted from their lowered gaze to meet those resembling blue chips of ice in a level gaze, and Dally was shocked at the electric charge that sped along his nerves from simply losing himself in those amazingly expressive eyes. At that particular moment, he could see fear, anger and shock lurking in the stunning depths, but as his eyes held those of the younger Greaser, he could imagine those striking orbs darkening to stormy clouds in passion, full lips parting in moans of pure pleasure...  
  
Unable to bear the lustful thoughts that were forming all too easily in his mind, Dally looked away, catching Soda's dark eyes on him as he did so. The coffee-coloured orbs held a clear warning: stay away.   
  
He would have to tread carefully around the Curtis brothers from this moment forward, he decided, because Sodapop, though good-natured, was entirely too perceptive, and Darry was no fool either. And it went without saying that they would skin him alive if they thought he was going to make a move on their baby brother. As for Pony...well, Dally was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his wits about him when in the company of the youngest member of the gang. Ever since he'd rescued the vulnerable Ponyboy from the hands of those Socs, all he could think about when looking at the youngest Curtis was what it would feel like to have that slender, supple body beneath him, to ravish those full, rose lips... He was torn between base desire and a surprising need to protect the younger boy. However, acting on either was an excellent way to get the tar beat out of him by the two elder Curtis'.  
  
Oh well, it's not like he wasn't used to that.  
  
So sorry this took so long, but please, review and tell me if you liked! 


	5. Confusion

*Look to chapter one for warnings and disclaimers.  
  
LadyJessy: Thanks a bunch! Happy to hear that you like the story, and I do apologise for the lack of updates, but writer's block is like a leech sometimes; annoying, really hard to get rid of and quite painful (well, actually, the painful part only comes true when readers come through on death threats or the like). And how about we just say Soda's REALLY perceptive? LOL. Thanks again!  
  
CrazeLilDreamer: Omigosh, such praise! I'm so flattered, thank you! Please, keep reviewing, that totally made my day (and a few other ones, when I went back and read it again).  
  
killslay: Yeah, I felt quite a bit of sympathy towards both Pony and Johnny during that chapter myself, but I refuse to be held responsible for their angst; it's my muse! And you're right, Dally's in quite a pickle, isn't he?  
  
Holly: *blushes* Thank you!! I know what you mean about the slash; I've literally combed through the entire Outsiders section looking for it, and there are some really good stories by Tashue and Silent Dirge.have you read them? Yes, there are so many possibilities for conflict, it's delicious! Rambling? Well, your rambling is ALWAYS appreciated here.ramble as much as you like! *grins*  
  
Tashue: Why, you're welcome! Thank you for the compliment! And your waiting has now come to an end.DUN DUN DUN.here is the chapter! It's nice and long too, so please review! *grins* I love your reviews.  
  
WuffieLuver: You flatter me.but please, continue. LOL. Glad to know this qualifies as a good slash fic, and I hope you enjoy the chapter! Ooo, and the pairing, well, it could be either.or both.or neither.IT'S A SURPRISE! I do have to make sure you keep reading and reviewing after all. Hint, hint, nudge, nudge. LOL. Thanks again!  
  
PonyboyXSodapopXDarry: LOL! I laughed when I read your review, but, *ahem*, the threat was VERY menacing, I swear. Thank you for the comments, flattery will get you everywhere with author! LOL, hope you enjoy and please review!  
  
Black_Cat03: Thanks! Hmm, well Pony's a redhead, that's close enough to blonde, right? LOL, here's the update, please review!  
  
Mr.Liz: THANK YOU! I'm giving you the biggest thank you because it was you that really made me get up off my ass and defeat my evil writer's block in order to finish this chapter. You were totally right when you said I should update because you took the time to review, so thank you once again, and I'm dedicating this chapter to you!  
  
Also, my thanks go out to Joce, Silent Dirge (I love your fics), Yasha T, Spikes-luvr-4ever, Lin and Layton 1988! THANKS GUYS!  
  
Chapter Five: "Confusion"  
  
The ice-blue eyes burning into his back were a distinct presence; Dally's gaze never wavered, and Ponyboy could feel the level of tension between them lift a few notches as those eyes roamed leisurely over the length of his slim body, leaving a pleasant tingling sensation in their wake. He shivered, for it was as though the path those intense orbs had taken had been traced instead by rough, callused fingers; Dally's fingers. He could imagine how it would feel, even as he pictured it in his mind. Long fingers skimming lightly over narrow shoulders, dipping slightly to brush teasingly against sensitive collarbones, then retreating down the curved spine in a whispery caress. They would slide outwards in arcs as they progressed, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on jutting hips before slim digits, increasing in pressure as they proceeded further down, glided along the sensual curve of tight, round buttocks.  
  
He nearly gasped aloud as he felt heat gather in his body, nearly fully aroused at the mere thought of Dally's touch.  
  
Dally. That's what had jolted him back to reality. He was fantasising about a friend, a fellow gang member. He couldn't allow it to happen again, even if his developing body insisted upon such outrageous responses to the thought of his tow-headed friend. Though there was no denying that it would indeed be pleasurable.  
  
He trembled, though whether with desire or fear he had no idea, for no matter how pleasant the feeling, it was also unnerving, disturbing, the effect that Dally's gaze had on him. To be fair, it was no mere gaze, by any means; it felt as though he had been the sole focus of Dally's attention since they'd walked through the door to the Curtis home. An improbable notion, he realised, considering the fact that most of the gang had been nursing mild scrapes and bruises since they'd arrived, courtesy of a three hour-long football game. However, it felt as though the moment he'd stepped into the house, Dally's eyes had landed resolutely on him and hadn't shifted from his form since then. It would seem that the tow-headed Greaser, if his watchful gaze was any indication, was more than mildly unsettled by the recent events of the previous day and of that very morning.  
  
Originally, the gang had let it go, hadn't protested overmuch when Johnny told them rather forcefully to forget about the entire incident, and had proceeded to continue on with arrangements for teams and the like. Once everything was settled, ruffled feathers (over small disagreements, mainly resumed arguments between Soda and Two-Bit concerning the division of players) smoothed, the gang had played a fair few hours of hardcore, tackle football. Only Pony's light injuries were taken into consideration when playing, and so each member of the gang was sporting at least a few cuts and bruises when they called it a day. Lingering outside the lot, relaxed and aching comfortably, the subject of Socs came up when Steve, pride wounded from the game's loss and always one to dredge up an old subject, commented sourly on his team's defeat.  
  
"We only lost 'cause he," jerking his thumb in Ponyboy's direction with a frown, "had the ball when you guys scored that last touchdown. It's not like we could tackle him."  
  
Green-grey eyes flared, but Ponyboy remained silent, accustomed to Steve's typical derogatory remarks. Surprisingly enough, it was Dally, ice orbs flashing angrily, who came to his defence, before anyone else could.  
  
"Shut yer mouth, Randle. We didn't go that easy on him. 'Sides, it's not his fault Socs jumped him-they're all over the place." He snapped, voice adopting a familiar edge. "I was talking to Shepard the other day, an' he told me that Socs got his brother right after he got outta the reformatory. They'd been waitin' for him." a sarcastic edge crept into his voice, "wanted to, 'welcome him home'. Bastards." He spat, seriousness vanishing as anger returned full force, pulsating from him in waves. Fury evident in both his posture and tone, though whether it was directed at Steve or the Socs was hard to determine, and for the most part, the gang decided to wisely keep silent.  
  
With one exception.  
  
Two-Bit's voice rang out cheerfully as he slung a tanned, muscular arm around Dally's shoulders, ignoring both the wince as he struck a fresh bruise and the glare it provoked from the blonde at his side. "Bet Shepard's gang got those Socs good though, eh, Dal?"  
  
Surprisingly enough, Dally laughed humourlessly, grim pleasure etched into the chiselled features of his pale face. "Yeah, they got 'em, all right. Shepard let Curly have a go at 'em, and I bet by the end they were pretty fuckin' sorry that they ever bothered him. Hassling any member of that family's a death wish." He said, shrugging off Two-Bit's arm distractedly.  
  
Game forgotten, Steve paused mid-swagger, facial expression pensive as he attempted to restore order to his hair, which had unravelled to complete disorder during the football match. It was a losing battle. He gave up eventually, resigned to the fact that he would have to do without his customary swirls, and testily faced a snickering Sodapop long enough to tug on Soda's own locks, which, usually a smooth waterfall of sunlit gold, was tangled and knotted. Flashing a quick grin at the glare this elicited, Steve turned to face Dally, the smile melting into a calculating look that caused warning bells to go off in Ponyboy's head. He paid close attention to Steve's words, positive he wouldn't like what he was about to hear.  
  
"Say, Dal," Steve began slowly, dark eyes sly as they met those of the two- headed Greaser, "d'ya think Shepard would back us up against the Socs?"  
  
Pale brows drew together thoughtfully, but Dally's face remained impassive, and his eyes never left Steve's, as though trying to bore into his mind to discover the thoughts laying within. Evidently disliking what they saw, ice eyes narrowed, and Dally spoke in low, dangerous tones.  
  
"Ya can't be thinkin' to just jump a bunch of Socs, Randle. Fuzz would be on our tails in about two seconds flat when they got a call." He glowered at the younger Greaser when he tried to interrupt. "All of us would be chucked into the slammer no problem, even them." Eyes flicking towards Pony and Johnny, before settling on Steve's once more.  
  
Soda cut in, chocolate eyes fierce.  
  
"Don't forget," he snapped, "Pony could be sent to a boys home. Or do you even care? I know you don't like him, but do ya really hate him that much? To, to-" he stumbled over his words slightly in fury as he tried to shout at his best friend, but apparently decided he'd said enough, simply taking a deep breath and waiting for Steve's response, jaw set and hands balled into fists.  
  
Steve's eyes shot to Soda, alarmed at the angry tone. Sodapop was rarely angered enough to let it show, but studying his best friend now, Steve wouldn't be surprised to see sparks shoot of those liquid brown eyes. 'Well, liquid in a molten lava kinda sense', he mused, amused at the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. 'My English teacher would be pretty damn proud.'  
  
But on to more important things, such as how to deal with a livid Sodapop. Steve racked his brain for the right words to appease his friend, irritated when he could find none. 'This isn't fair.' he thought gloomily, eyeing his friend cautiously, and cursing the lack of experience with a furious Soda. In truth, one had to deal with an angry Sodapop so seldomly that it was impossible to form a technique in order to break him of the mood. Not to complain however, because a Curtis temper is a very dangerous and very unpleasant thing to deal with, as anyone having dealt with Darry could swear, and so Steve decided that it wasn't worth any further contemplation. He opted for something Sodapop always said to him when he was angry, but found he had no words forthcoming. Desperate, he merely gazed at him, eyes wide as saucers, gaping like a fish.  
  
The heavy silence was broken when Ponyboy pushed past Two-Bit to get to Sodapop's side, snatching his brother's hand. Soda turned around at the insistent tugging and came face to face with his younger brother's scrutiny, a mixture of love, amusement and exasperation in the misty, swirling green depths.  
  
"Soda, you know Steve doesn't want that. Remember, you could get sent to a boys home too, and do you really think he wants you to leave?" Pony said gently, eyes soft as he gripped his brother's long hands reassuringly.  
  
Soda sighed, squeezing back and he graced Pony with a small smile. "No." he replied ruefully.  
  
An answering smile lit Ponyboy's face in response, but his eyes were shadowed with worry. "Maybe we should listen to what Steve has to say then?" he ventured, searching chocolate orbs. "I promise that if whatever he says makes you mad you can rant and rave all you like. If not, then maybe an apology instead?"  
  
The flame in chocolate irises had simmered down to a spark and Soda's handsome face was sheepish when he turned back to his friend. His lips were still thinned in disapproval, but the regret was plain to see in the expressive brown depths of his eyes.  
  
"Sorry, Stevie, I overreacted. I know ya didn't mean it like that."  
  
An apology, sincere too, yet Steve would've sworn he could detect an undercurrent of warning in the smooth tones, challenging him to give Soda real cause for his reaction. A quick study of the other gang members revealed nothing out of sorts, occupied as they were staring expectantly at him, but one look at the youngest of the group assured him it wasn't his imagination. Finely arched eyebrows were drawn together tightly over green- grey orbs, the smooth brow creased in a frown as Ponyboy studied his brother.  
  
Finally, Pony heaved a sigh and Steve found those eyes on him once again. A short nod from the auburn-haired boy and Steve turned back to face Sodapop. Chocolate eyes were still fixed on him, and he buried his astonishment at his friend's protectiveness with a reckless grin.  
  
"Don't worry, Soda, I get mad as heck all the time an' ya don't even bat an eyelash." He shrugged. "Anyhow, I probly deserved it for even lettin' you guys think that."  
  
"Well, if it ain't that, Randle, what in hell's name are you babbling' about?" Dally snapped.  
  
The reckless grin turned devilish.  
  
"Why, I'm so glad you asked, Dally." He said slyly as he tugged Sodapop, who was eyeing him warily, into an one-armed hug, so he could lean heavily on his tolerant best friend. That earned him a cocked eyebrow from both blondes, and Soda tensed slightly, recognising in Steve's glittering eyes a dangerous light that he had learned long ago not to trust.  
  
"Well, I was just askin', Dal, 'cause there ain't no point in goin' through with this rumble if we don't got Shepard. There ain't no way we'd be gettin' the Brumley boys without his help." He explained logically, patiently, as though to a child as he lit a cigarette nonchalantly. He seemed very calm, very cool. The glint in his eyes betrayed him.  
  
Silence.  
  
Uproarious laughter erupted from Two-Bit, a bark-like chuckle from Dally, both of whom slapped him enthusiastically on the back, punching him playfully. Ponyboy watched with wide eyes, feeling the beginnings of foreboding press upon the edges of his mind.  
  
"Knew there was a reason we were friends, Randle." Dally said ruefully. "Shoula known you'd come up with a crazy idea like that." A rare grin. " There ain't been a rumble fer years. It's crazy."  
  
Ice eyes passed briefly over Ponyboy's pale face, flicking then to Johnny's, before hardening with resolve. They sought out Steve's once more, voice now devoid of any humour. "I'm all for it."  
  
Steve nodded solemnly, though a smirk played at the edges of thin lips, and he directed a raised an eyebrow towards the rest of the gang, expectant. Two-Bit's face-splitting grin was answer enough.  
  
Ponyboy, meanwhile, had frozen, his feet cemented to the ground and mouth sealed shut. Stricken eyes were wide with shock as they darted incessantly between faces, his own delicate features purposefully blank to mask the nervous fear he felt in his bones.  
  
A quick glance at his best friend told him that Johnny was more than reluctant about the idea as well. The expression on the tanned countenance was cool, but dark orbs were deathly frightened. 'No wonder too', Pony thought, his eyes fixed on the small scar marring the smooth flesh of a high cheekbone, 'he got hurt bad. What happened to me's nothin' to what they did to him.' The thought was terribly unsettling in the face of his own fear and so Pony's gaze found a new face.  
  
Soda, strangely enough, seemed more or less appeased at the suggestion, his lively eyes practically glowing with anticipation. He should have known really; Soda could never resist a good fight, no matter what his behaviour might suggest, and he never stayed mad for long (barring the obvious grudge against the Socs). Besides, his brother wasn't stupid; Sodapop knew well the difference between jumping someone and a rumble, just like every other Greaser did, and, just like every other Greaser, he jumped at the chance to beat a few Socs on even ground, in a fair fight.  
  
Darry's reaction was predictable enough as well; he didn't respond, didn't even show any really visible sign that he'd heard the conversation, but his eyes- hard blue-green orbs, akin to a lake frozen to solid ice with winter's first frost- were answer enough. Dally and Two-Bit continued voicing their support vocally as Steve carried on about vengeance, perverse anticipation darkening the sharp angles of his face. Darry simply nodded, indicating he was all for whatever Steve had in mind, but before Steve could say much, Pony found himself protesting violently.  
  
"Don't you guys ever think?" he demanded heatedly, beginning to tremble. "Ya can't just go fightin' the Socs; it's a STUPID idea!"  
  
Six pairs of eyes shot to the youngest of the group, taking in the pale, drawn face, somewhat angry, but nakedly fearful. Soda and Two-Bit's mouths shut with audible clicks, appearing properly abashed. Not surprisingly, Steve simply scowled, while Johnny's face showed immense relief. Darry's countenance was ever impassive and Dally openly glared at him, displaying stubbornness in equal measure to Ponyboy as the two engaged in a shouting match.  
  
"We can't just let 'em get away with this. If they think they can, they'll just keep attackin' us!" Dally exploded.  
  
"But we can't just go runnin' around jumpin' every Soc we see!" Pony exclaimed ardently, eyes sizzling emerald fire. "What d'you think'll happen, Dal, huh? The Fuzz are on THEIR side-they let Socs do whatever they want, but they'd drag us downtown in cuffs in a second if they caught even a sniff that we were causin' trouble! You know that, Dally; we ALL know it!"  
  
The only discernible sign of defeat was the stiffening of the spine as Dally tensed, and Pony recognised it immediately. Dally was never tense; he was alert, poised, always ready for an attack, but tension implied discomfort in a situation. Dally was never tense.  
  
But he was now, Pony realised, as the tow-headed Greaser nodded slightly to acknowledge acquiescence, then immediately turned to leave in the direction of the Curtis residence, not bothering to see if anyone followed.  
  
It seemed to Pony as though Dally had deflated at his words despite his stiff posture, almost like a punctured football steadily losing air, and though the rage had still been present, it had seemed to be reined in as Dally considered Pony's logic. In retrospect, Pony suspected Dally had known that, had been aware of the truth of Pony's every word before they'd been spoken, but anger knows no logic or sense; it knows only the simple, all-consuming, primal urge to lash out, and so Dally had forgotten himself for a moment. He could understand that, but didn't regret at all his words. Though surprised at how easily Dally had given in, Pony gave it no real thought, so incredible was his relief. He really didn't think he'd have been able to deal with another fight so soon; the idea of a brawl made him slightly nauseous.  
  
Not a good sign.  
  
***  
  
After returning to the Curtis house, Ponyboy, much to his chagrin, had been appointed the role of nursemaid, as so ordered by Darry. The youngest Greaser found himself kneeling, disgruntled and irritated, in front of a delighted Two-Bit, who revelled in the prospect of taunting and teasing him incessantly while he treated a particularly nasty cut underneath one twinkling stormy-grey eye.  
  
"Ain't this just a picture?" Two-Bit exclaimed gleefully, running roughened fingers through silky ginger locks as Ponyboy dabbed the incision with rubbing alcohol. Green-grey eyes narrowed marginally at both the remark and the touch, expressing visually only annoyance at both, but inwardly more than a little surprised at the contact. He decided to ignore it, attempting to convince himself that it meant nothing and re-focused his attention on the cut he was bandaging.  
  
"Ya sure are pretty enough to be a nurse, Ponyboy. Shoe fits it seems." Teasing words in an unusually serious voice, the roughened fingers migrating towards his chin, idly stroking the jaw-line.  
  
Wide eyes resembling a thickening fog shot up to meet eyes of a darker shade of grey, the former clearly astounded, the latter's unreadable.  
  
Now, Ponyboy had never thought of Two-Bit as a serious person; in fact, the only times he'd ever seen his good-natured friend anything other than absolutely cheerful had to do with an encounter with Socs, but at that moment his friend was. solemn. And it unnerved him.  
  
Ponyboy studied the other Greaser intently, realising that he'd never thought much about Two-Bit at all. Apparently not only was his friend capable of being serious, but he was, Pony was startled to discover, extremely handsome as well. 'Not hard to see why the blondes flock to him.' Pony thought idly, eyes running along the chiselled features of the tanned face. At first it was innocent admiration, studying each aspect of the handsome countenance, but then the lines of Two-Bit's face began to blur into more angular ones. Sharp jaw the same.tanned skin instead of pale.easy smile as opposed to a dangerous, predatory one.stormy-grey eyes in contrast to ice blue.  
  
Ponyboy started as he realised not only was he openly gawking at his friend, but that he was making comparisons between he and Dally. He was shocked at himself, at the revelation that he was attracted to both of the older Greasers. 'Oh, my brothers are gonna kill me.' he thought miserably.  
  
"Pony? Y'okay, kid?" Right, Two-Bit.  
  
Eyes downcast, a deep blush decorating high cheekbones, Ponyboy missed Two-Bit's smug grin and cocked eyebrow.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine, Two-Bit, and so are you. The cut'll be fine as long as ya don't pick at it like usual." A bad attempt at humour, but usually he would laugh anyway, maybe ruffling Pony's hair a bit. But Two-Bit didn't laugh, simply smirked, and Ponyboy felt his ears heat as his blush darkened.  
  
Ponyboy stood smoothly, shaking silky auburn locks out of his eyes as he strode towards the living room, only to find a pair of ice-blue eyes staring at him from the kitchen doorway, the taller body blocking his path. Those eyes were scathing as they glared at Two-Bit, who hadn't moved an inch from his relaxed pose at the kitchen table, and simply stared evenly back, grin frozen on his face. Pony shoved awkwardly past Dally, seeking escape from the tense company of the older Greasers, and surprisingly enough, was let past.  
  
His respite, however, was short lived, as Two-Bit sauntered in a few moments later, just to sprawl next to him on the floor, and Dally, well, Dally had stalked in right after Two-Bit, settling himself comfortably on the couch, his eyes never leaving Ponyboy's back.  
  
So, in truth, he supposed it was only roughly ten minutes that Dally had been watching him, or in more accurate terms, scrutinising him-studying him. However, when one is confronted with such a soul-searching look, courtesy of sharp, pale eyes, charged with disconcertingly powerful emotions, and hell-bent on stripping you of all your feeble defences in an effort to see everything you are laid bare, time doesn't quite seem to be of such importance anymore. And Dally most definitely had that look perfected.  
  
'I wonder if it's just me, or if everyone gets that kind of treatment.' Ponyboy thought with irritation, long, slender fingers running through auburn locks in exasperation. 'I mean, I ain't never seen him do that to someone else.why me?'  
  
It was true that, though the two had always behaved in a mostly civil manner, Ponyboy and Dally had never been close, and as such, Pony was incredibly puzzled, both by his own sudden taking to the platinum-haired Greaser, and Dally's nearly protective conduct towards him.  
  
Sighing, Ponyboy stood from his position lounging on the floor in front of the television, Two-Bit by his side. The rusty-haired Greaser barely noticed his departure, so fixated was he upon the cartoon figure of Mickey Mouse dancing across the screen, as Pony made his way into the kitchen to help Soda and Steve with dinner. However, his actions could hardly escape Dally's watchful eye, and the elder boy caught his eyes meaningfully, inclining slightly in the direction of the door. He hopped over the arm of the sofa, and slid out the door, onto the porch. Obediently, Ponyboy followed, wondering at the tow-headed Greaser's strange behaviour.  
  
"What's up, Dal? Somethin' wrong?" Pony asked, leaning against the porch railing after pulling both the screen and oak doors firmly shut.  
  
Dally studied him for a moment, face unreadable but manner relaxed. He remained silent, his only actions lighting a cigarette from the slightly rumpled pack of Kools, not even bothering to offer one to his companion. Ponyboy resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  
  
"What's this about, Dally? What's got ya so worked up?" He couldn't believe his own boldness. Mere days before he had felt incredibly intimidated by the cold, hard hood that was Dally Winston, but now he felt only impatient at his companion's huge amount of self-importance. 'Must be Two-Bit's influence' he decided.  
  
One pale-blonde eyebrow raised questioningly and cool blue eyes watched him with a vague trace of surprise, thin lips spreading into a humourless smirk.  
  
"Soda was ready to beat the tar outta Steve today." he began.  
  
Green-grey eyes clouded over, Pony's lips automatically forming words that he didn't want to hear, especially issuing from his own mouth.  
  
"Yeah, Social Services called yesterday.they were talkin' 'bout taking me away again," voice turning sarcastic, "'cause of the dangerous neighbourhood we live in." weary tone again, "they heard 'bout all the fights, people getting' jumped 'n all. He managed to forget about, I think, 'til earlier. It really freaked him out too.I'm just glad they didn't hear 'bout yesterday. Dunno if they will."  
  
Dally's sharp eyes caught the tremor that wracked the slim frame as the monotone voice trailed off, and he felt rage course anew through his veins.  
  
"Yeah, well don't worry 'bout it, kid. They ain't gonna touch ya again. I won't let 'em."  
  
The words, as well as the tone, were final, decisive, leaving no room for doubt in Pony's mind, and when Dally saw the kernel of hope he had placed in those eyes grow, forest green banishing the cloudy grey of fear, he couldn't help himself.  
  
Dally crossed the distance between he and Pony purposefully, sweeping the supple body of the younger boy into his strong arms, barely catching the flicker of surprise in the dazzling orbs before he laid claim to full, petal-soft lips.  
  
He swallowed Pony's gasp of shock, concentrating only on the opportunity that it presented. He plunged his tongue in, plundering the sweet depths savagely, arms tightening around the trim waist. He felt slender fingers twine into his hair and repressed the urge to smirk, choosing instead to attempt to coax more honeyed moans from full lips.  
  
Ponyboy thought his knees would buckle when he felt Dally's tongue move smoothly along his own, massaging the slick muscle gently, coating it with Dally's own spicy taste. He had never felt such pleasure before; at first a pleasant tingling feeling throughout his body, it had slowly escalated to a sensual burn, and he was now beginning to feel the effects of the of Dally's passion centre in his own groin. He moaned loudly at the delightful feeling, then pulled away abruptly, immediately appalled at his own wantonness.  
  
Dally, however, wasn't willing to relinquish his hold on the younger boy so easily. As he recaptured Pony's lips, one elegant hand trailed down the slope of the slightly arched lower back, reaching down to cup a denim- encased buttock, and he squeezed gently, relishing the quick jerk of hips in response. He couldn't believe how aroused he was becoming from a simple kiss and grope, but it was sinfully sexy seeing this young thing surrender to his caresses, plead for his touch.he could take him so easily.  
  
"No!"  
  
Ponyboy grabbed the porch railing tightly to keep his balance as he was shoved harshly backwards. Feeling a little disoriented, he looked to Dally for an explanation, but the tow-headed Greaser's back was facing him, the spine rigid as a pole, the lean form tense. Tense again; not a good sign, just as the cry that had left Dally's lips was ominous.  
  
"Dal?"  
  
Dally turned at the shaky, pleading tone and almost succumbed to temptation as he spied the mussed ginger hair and swollen lips. But no, he held firm; he would not take advantage of Pony.  
  
"Look, I gotta go, kid. I'll swing by tomorrow."  
  
Ponyboy watched numbly as Dally stalked off, long legs carrying him quickly away. He was torn between disappointment, hurt and relief with the last flash of platinum blonde hair as the elder Greaser turned the corner, the setting sun highlighting the pale strands beautifully, with shades of red and copper.  
  
And so Ponyboy Curtis sat heavily down on his front steps, fighting back tears at the feeling of being the most confused he'd ever been in his entire life.  
  
**Thanks for reading guys. Remember, review and tell me what you think! So sorry about the delay but I had total writer's block; this chapter just refused to be written! 


	6. Confusion and Jealousy

*See chapter one for warnings and disclaimers.  
  
Responses to reviews  
  
WuffieLuver: Well, I would have to agree that naughty can definitely be good, right? *winks* But exams are unconditionally bad, so if I helped distract you, fantastic!  
  
LadyJessy: Another update! Finally! I'm so slow, aren't I? Dally's reaction is explained in this chapter (sorry if he's a little OOC, but I'm doing my best). Yeah, I always pictured Dally as the jealous type, and Two- Bit seems like just the kind of guy that would test him like that, and it's definitely going to get spicier! Thank you so much for always reviewing, I always look forward to your feedback!  
  
Silent Dirge: Well, when I read the book, there seemed to be definite chemistry between Pony and Dally (could have been my imagination, of course), and experimentation is always good, right? Especially since I haven't seen another fic with this pairing. You envy me? *blushes* That's such a compliment, because I love your stuff, especially the Steve/Pony stories! But yeah, isn't Tashue great? THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR REVIEW!  
  
killslay: First of all, I'd like to thank you profusely for your constant opinions; I love hearing from you! Thank you so much for the compliments! Yeah, I think that the theme of the Outsiders is definitely something you have to take into account when writing fics about it, so I'm glad I'm doing well! As for the description, I do tend to get carried away, just because it's probably my favourite part about writing, but I'll try to tone it down a little. Yeah, I always considered Darry over-protective, but it just seemed logical to me that Soda would feel the same way because of their close relationship. Maybe he just hides it better? Thanks!  
  
seraphim9: So many questions, indeed! LOL! Thank you for the praise, I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! And I do apologise for the late chapters, but I tend to obsess over a chapter to try to make it as perfect as possible. *sheepish look* I'll do my best to update faster. Thanks!  
  
Mr.Liz: Well, you definitely deserved the dedication! *faints from praise* Thank you, that's overwhelmingly great to hear! Have I ever told you how much I like your reviews? Because they rock! Chocolate? For me? Thank you!  
  
Black_Cat03: Hmm, a fight scene? That might have potential.you'll just have to wait and see! Thanks so much for the review!  
  
GirlMatthews: Yes, brotherly love is very important. I love the interactions with those three guys; those scenes practically write themselves! Thanks for the review!  
  
Cappy: THANK YOU! That was such an awesome review! As long as you review, I'll keep writing!  
  
Aslan: Oh, don't die, then you won't be able to read the chapter! Thanks so much for the review, it means a lot!  
  
Savage Damsel: Ah, so sorry for the delay! I'd like to say that things are going to be cleared up soon, but we all know that these guys have a tendency to get into trouble, so sometimes what happens is even a surprise for me! Thanks for the review!  
  
Dreams of Magic: Thanks so much for the suggestions - they're always welcome, and if one of your ideas comes into play later on, I'll be sure to give you credit! Thanks for the review!  
  
My thanks also go out to redrose2310, cd, Capricorn, Amanda, Elsie, GerryGirl (thanks!), Lin3 (you can't have a heart attack, you won't be able to read the chapter!), CrazeLilDreamer, lilly (no offence taken), kaze-sui, Wanda and Joce! Thanks guys!  
  
Chapter 6: Confusion and Jealousy  
  
Dally strolled into the bar with even strides, his cocky demeanour concealing the inner conflict threatening to drive him out of his mind. He was at his wits end with the situation concerning Ponyboy; it should have by all rights been simple enough - he wanted Ponyboy, wanted to protect him, and he couldn't stand the sight of anyone else's hands on him - but it wasn't.  
  
After all, Ponyboy was the baby of the gang, the one everyone wanted to protect; he was too young to be a real greaser, to have to deal with their day-to-day obstacles. Even Johnny, the gang's pet, felt the need, at least to a degree, to make sure nothing happened to him, recognised the urge to make sure Pony held on to his goodness and strove to make something of himself, to realise his potential. Even Johnny, lost puppy that he was, buried the bulk of vulnerability he felt in order to protect his best friend. Courageous, really. And that courage only made the rest of the gang more determined to watch out for the both of them, particularly with recent events.  
  
But this desire, this hunger that Dally felt, seemed to contradict all those instincts. He wasn't supposed to ache with unfulfilled lust after a kiss, wasn't supposed to dream about ravishing the boy, running his hands along bared, creamy flesh previously untouched by anyone, and he most certainly wasn't supposed to feel jealous because Pony was being touched affectionately by Two-Bit, another friend. It was wrong, and he almost had a mind to tell Darry, just to get the beating he so deserved.  
  
'Yeah, Dallas, that'd be bright. 'Sides, when did I start being so fuckin' noble. ' He thought to himself, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity and the newfound conscience.  
  
"Just need to get laid is all." He mumbled, eyes locking with those of a scantily clad redhead across the room. Wolfish smile on his face, he followed her as she slipped into the Men's room with a saucy smile and suggestive smile.  
  
Gripping the walls of the bathroom stall to keep his balance as his felt his pants being unzipped, he decided resolutely, 'Yeah, this is just what I need.'  
  
But his heart wasn't convinced.  
  
Ponyboy sighed, massaging his temples, hoping to fend off his growing headache. No success: the television was blaring, Two-Bit roaring with laughter, Steve and Soda wrestling noisily and over it all, Darry shouting at all of them to quiet down.  
  
Ah, quiet. Darry had finally become angry enough with them it seemed, if the sudden lack of noise was any indication. He let his head fall back against the railing with a thud, and found his eyelids drooping as he admired the beauty of the long-dark night.  
  
Dally had left over an hour ago, leaving a confused Ponyboy in his wake. His mystification had soured his mood to such an extent that he found himself avoiding any company. Johnny would be the natural exception, of course, save for the fact that he idolised Dally, and Ponyboy didn't want to put any sort of strain on their relationship. He wasn't sure he'd ever be forgiven if he did.  
  
So he'd declined Johnny's offer to join him at the lot, and had simply sat on the steps of his front porch, content to let his confusion and shame simmer and stew, till it seemed as though his presence was overcast with rain clouds. The stars did their best to distract him; twinkling and flashing brightly, but even such a display could not bring a smile to his sombre countenance.  
  
He just didn't understand. Why would a group of guys, Socs even, think it was their right to paw at him when they didn't even know his name? When they scorned him for being a greaser, though his station in life was hardly something he could control? Why should they have the power to make him feel dirty, like a piece of meat, when he hadn't even been kissed before, or. he sighed, weary. Useless questions, of course, but they circled around his mind endlessly, causing him to wish desperately that he could seek answers freely, fruitless though it might be. And those questions only led to further, more confusing questions, centring on a single person.  
  
Dally. What did Dally think of him? Why had he left? He gasped suddenly in shame and horror. Did Dally think he was dirty. because of the Socs? Would Two-Bit think he was dirty too?  
  
Well, maybe questions centring around two people.  
  
He groaned deeply, close to tearing out his hair in frustration. He settled for running long fingers through the tangled auburn locks, pushing silky strands out of his eyes as he tried to keep back hot tears of dejection. Confusion and anger also played a large part in his state of emotional distress, and he almost felt like he was going to throw up if he didn't find some sort of means to vent his feelings. But he couldn't let himself cry; greasers didn't cry.  
  
Of course, that seemed to be working out.  
  
Ponyboy sighed as he heard the door open, restraining tears by force of will, and felt a heavy weight settle down next to him. A quick glance to his right confirmed his suspicions: Darry. Which was good, because, for all that Darry wanted to protect him, he wouldn't insist on a recounting of his troubles.  
  
"Hey, Dar." He said quietly, not even able to pretend to be cheerful. His brother probably wouldn't have believed him anyway.  
  
"Hey, Pony. Somethin' wrong, kiddo?"  
  
Ponyboy tried his hardest to repress another sigh at his brother's concerned tone, as well as at his depressing thoughts, but it escaped him anyway. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately, sighing. A clear sign of melancholy; it practically screamed misery when combined with his strange behaviour, and both his brothers definitely would have noticed. Shame they were so perceptive, and too caring to let him drown in his own gloom.  
  
'Damn.' He thought warily, his heart beating a little faster. 'They can't know. It's my fault anyway.'  
  
"I'm fine, Darry." He protested weakly. "Really, there's nothin' wrong."  
  
A sigh from his older brother, accompanied by a muscular arm slung around his shoulders. 'Maybe sighing is contagious', pondered Pony as he leant into the embrace, comforted by the silent reassurance his brother projected and the warmth of his body.  
  
"Ponyboy," Darry began, "Soda and I have both noticed; you seem a little. shaky. since, since they." arms tightening, voice determinedly steady, "since they hurt you. Which is understandable, but we." a deep breath, voice trembling slightly, "we just want to help you, baby."  
  
Green-grey irises widened at the emotion in the normally impassive voice, and all of a sudden Ponyboy felt overwhelmingly guilty for ever having had doubts about Darry's love for him, and selfish for never having considered the effect his attack might have had on his brothers. After all, they'd all lost their parents, and had to cling to whatever family they had left. Tears filled his eyes as he looked up at equally sad ice-blue orbs, and clutched his brother's body closer, attempting to convey comfort as well as take reassurance in the strength of his eldest sibling's strong arms.  
  
"Oh, Dar, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I get myself into these messes, I'm sorry I don't think with my head, I'm sorry."  
  
Ponyboy began to shake with the force of his emotion, his voice heavy with remorse. His tirade was cut off abruptly as he lost his battle with tears, choking them out as he lamented, tears coursing down smooth cheeks in rivulets. Pony dove further into his sibling's embrace, burrowing into the protective cove of the barrel chest as his slim form was racked with tremors. Darry looked upon the ginger head with sad eyes, feeling the urge to weep, a desire to ease some of the palpable sorrow.  
  
"Baby, there's nothing to be sorry for." He protested gently. "You've done nothing wrong."  
  
Ponyboy let the compassionate words wash over him like gentle rain, the soft way they were uttered striking him as genuine, and his heart lightened, though he felt more confused then ever. If he'd done nothing wrong, why had those Socs attacked him? Why had Dally run off like he had the fuzz on his tail?  
  
But one question stuck out the most, monopolising his thoughts as Pony allowed Darry to calm him, and lead him back into the house, which was empty now except for Two-Bit.  
  
Why had he run off, when Pony had wanted him to stay?  
  
Dally exited the bar feeling considerably better than when he'd entered. Whoever said alcohol wasn't the answer to life's problems had certainly never tried it; Dally, courtesy of a few strong drinks, and a liberation of some. tension, was feeling more light-hearted than he had in days, weeks maybe. Light-hearted and light-headed, anyway.  
  
Clutching the beer he'd taken for the road, Dally directed his stumbling feet towards the drive-in, relying on instinct to find another member of the gang. He sneaked in easily, and roamed around aimlessly, stopping periodically to harass a young Soc here and there.  
  
'Nothing better.' He thought, chuckling to himself. Ice blue eyes scanned the crowd quickly, none too thoroughly, aware that the person he was looking for wouldn't be hard to spot were he there.  
  
'Wonder where Two-Bit is,' he mused, 'that dumb greaser's usually here making a racket. Glory, where the hell is everyone?'  
  
He made his way towards the seats in front of the concession stand, spotting something that made him freeze in his tracks. Anger and jealousy were about to rear their combined ugly heads, he knew, but made no attempt to quell the raging emotions.  
  
So much for feeling mellow. But the thing to remember about liquor, and inebriation, is that emotions are magnified, so calm is lethargy, happiness is giddiness and anger is red-hot. And the package deal also comes with a little thing called mood swings.  
  
Ponyboy sighed, unable to recall why he'd allowed Two-Bit to talk him into a drive-in of all things, when all he wanted was to go to sleep. No, wait, Darry had wanted him to sleep, but he had protested, fearing nightmares would return. However, the house had been too quiet, and he'd been about to scream or cry with the weight of the silence bearing down upon him, intensifying the emotions his overwrought brain was trying to process.  
  
And then Two-Bit had jumped in with his brilliant suggestion, and surprisingly, Darry had conceded. It had sounded like a great idea at the time, a means to distract himself, but he was now beginning to question the sense in agreeing to accompany the older greaser, surrounded by imposing greasers and hoods, arrogant Socs, and indifferent middle-class folk.  
  
He'd had to practically drag Two-Bit to their seats, so often did the rusty- haired greaser pause to ask for a phone number or to ogle some nameless blonde. Frankly, Ponyboy was ready to leave by the time they actually sat down, but they'd actually paid to get in this time, so he wasn't keen on wasting perfectly good money. Stifling a sigh, he pulled his jacket tighter around his body and tried to concentrate on the movie, aware on some level that his companion was staring at him. It didn't bother him at first, but those stormy eyes seemed to grow more and more focussed on him, the gaze near smouldering as Ponyboy fidgeted in his seat.  
  
Wide eyes, bright green with annoyance, slid to meet sharp grey orbs, but before he could demand what the problem was, he found firm lips pressed against his, a slick tongue taking advantage of his already open mouth and diving into the moist cavern to map its interior. Neither greaser had closed his eyes, shocked emerald irises locked with passionate pewter- coloured ones, as the elder pulled the younger easily onto his lap, a large hand settling solidly on the small of Pony's back, the other caressing the smooth skin of his face and neck.  
  
'Well, he's definitely a good kisser.' Was the only thought that came to mind, as Pony struggled to comprehend how he had ended up in this position, with Two-Bit groping him and sticking his tongue down his throat, if one put it in blunt terms.  
  
Except it was more than that, because it felt so good. Two-Bit was seducing him, putting all his effort into making sure it was pleasurable, something in which he was immeasurably successful. The tanned hands running along his body were sure, but not rough, and the press of hips to his was teasing, sensual, and not forceful.  
  
And the kiss, well the kiss was everything a kiss is supposed to be - heated and passionate, giving and taking in equal share. And while Ponyboy felt himself kissing back, opening and submitting, it wasn't with shame, because, the way that Two-Bit desperately clutched his body when it melted against the elder's solid form made it clear that his friend was accepting his surrender with joy, and not triumph.  
  
Ponyboy found himself moaning, pressing closer to the muscular chest, and he delighted in the fact that he felt no fear, no shame and that Two-Bit wasn't pushing him away, even if it was just because he didn't know about the Socs, didn't know he was tainted like Dally did.  
  
Dally.  
  
Cursing, he pulled away slightly to look into slightly glazed grey eyes, and at Two-Bit's ear-splitting grin, he felt a hesitant smile spread across his face as well.  
  
"Well, now that you two have pried yourselves apart, y'all might wanna and stay that way."  
  
The silky, dangerous voice made Ponyboy's head jerk up, and, still breathing heavily from the kiss, he scrambled off Two-Bit's lap, watching the tow-headed greaser warily. Two-Bit, not in the least bit perturbed, stood up to his full height, cheeky smile ever-present and dark grey eyes glinting with humour.  
  
"What's up, Dal? Shoot, I think you scared the life outta the kid."  
  
His easy manner seemed to infuriate Dally, and Ponyboy found himself retreating even though the anger in those flashing orbs wasn't directed at him.  
  
'Glory, what have I got myself into?' he groaned mentally.  
  
"What the hell were ya doin', ya clown?" demanded Dally, spine rigid.  
  
Two-Bit shrugged easily, tousling absentmindedly his rusty-coloured hair, before answering good-naturedly.  
  
"I woulda thought that'd be pretty obvious, even for you, Dally."  
  
Ponyboy flinched, acutely aware that the confrontation might eventually escalate to blows. Looking at Dally, he had a feeling that a fight wasn't far off, as it appeared as though Dally was having trouble keeping himself from lunging at Two-Bit now, which was strange, because, while Dallas was notorious for being dangerous, he usually had no trouble keeping his cool.  
  
Uh oh, time for interference. Even Two-Bit seemed slightly flustered, and Dally had the look of someone on the brink of madness. Taking a deep breath, Pony tucked a stray lock of ginger silk behind an ear, and made to step between the two greasers, same height, but one lean as a hound and the other brawny and muscular, but a sudden shout stopped him.  
  
"Hey, little greaser! Forget that filth and we'll show ya a good time!"  
  
Turning cool eyes on the approaching Socs, he allowed a sneer to overcome his features, voice biting and spiteful as he responded.  
  
"You're the filth - you just think you've hidden it with a cheap madras cover. No one's fooled, though, we can all see you're worthless."  
  
Pony heard a bark of laughter from Dally, and a whistle of appreciation from Two-Bit, but didn't turn to face them, keeping his eyes on the same five Socs that had jumped him the day before, and that he'd seen earlier that afternoon. The leader, the blonde boy that had tried to rape him, had what would have been handsome features were they not twisted in such a malicious look as he gazed upon the slender body of the youngest greaser. Dark eyes traced the line of lean legs, to a trim waist, all the way up to meet hard granite-coloured eyes, with something near fond remembrance.  
  
"Nah, we both know it's you greasers that are the problem here. You dirty anything you touch. You, though," a lascivious glance that had Ponyboy bristling, "you're a sweet little thing. Shame our time was cut short.you could always make it up to me."  
  
Ponyboy heard a snarl behind him - Dally no doubt - but he concentrated on the Soc in front of him.  
  
"Go fuck yourself, 'cause, trust me, that's the only way you're ever gonna get any. You're disgusting. Get outta here."  
  
The Soc didn't even reply to Ponyboy's disgusted words, but held his eyes for a long moment, to make sure that his message was clear:  
  
We're not done. 


	7. Confessions and Revelations

*See chapter one for warnings and disclaimers.  
  
Responses to reviews:  
  
redrose2310: Prettyboy...hmm, that has a nice ring to it and it's remarkable how closely related it is to Ponyboy...coincidence? LoL, but anyway, Darry and Soda's reactions will be interesting, to say the least; glad you're looking forward to it, though I can't say that Dally and Two-Bit are (I am so corny). Thank you, you're always one of the first people to review a new chapter! (  
  
Silent Dirge: Ah, another faithful reviewer, something for which I can't thank you enough. It's always good to hear from you, no matter what you say; blunt and direct is good, as long as it's not hurtful, which you're not. Oh, yes, please update your fics as much as possible (though I probably shouldn't talk considering my own lack of updates)!  
  
Pam: *squeals* Thank you! I'm so flattered! I definitely do my best to express things the way I imagine them myself, and it's good to know that I've been at least somewhat successful. ( Hope you enjoy the chapter!  
  
Mr.Liz: *blows kisses* Thank you, thank you, you're too kind...but I love you for it! You know just how to give me a boost of confidence, and I'm so flattered that I have to give you something back. *gives Mr.Liz chocolate for being one of the best reviewers ever! *  
  
CrazeLilDreamer: Joy, joy! *grins* Yours is contagious: I'm so glad that you're so happy to see an update, and I hope this one will make you ecstatic! You know, at this point, I'm not even sure who Pony's going to choose (he's kind of picky), and I mean, what a decision: Two-Bit or Dally? He'll be able to handle either though; he's feistier than he gets credit for usually. So sorry to make you wait, but here it is, chapter seven! Thanks for adding me!  
  
killslay: Oh, the possibilities...the endless possibilities. A rumble? Maybe...and yeah, Ponyboy's looking towards a future of tough times. As for Darry and Pony, well, I think there's too little about the good parts of their relationship, and that's how I picture that they interact. Two-Bit? He's unpredictable, so you never know...  
  
seraphim9: You have no idea how excited I am to see a review from you; you are a constant reassurance that this story is a success, so thank you! So sorry I take so long to update, but I don't like posting short chapters, and I like to make sure everything is as good as possible. Pony with Dally? *grins as well* I don't know, we'll have to see who Pony chooses. Thanks!  
  
Savage Damsel: Ha ha, your review made me laugh, but don't beat yourself up – the important thing is that you eventually did see it was updated, read it and reviewed. What more can an author ask for? A threesome? Hmm, I hadn't really considered it; that wasn't the original thought, and I doubt if this story will turn out that way, but it's an interesting possibility for future plots. Hmm... But anyway, here's the update and I hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much!  
  
Black_Cat03: Oh, believe me I was tempted, but I figured Ponyboy was stressed enough without a fight between his "suitors". And the Socs, evil bunch that they are, are never predictable...you'll just have to wait and see. Thanks for reviewing!  
  
darkeri-chan: I absolutely know what you mean! I get that feeling when reading books and when watching movies - a character will just do something so stupid that I can't even look. Ha ha. Thanks for the review!  
  
Chibi-Neko-Luva: Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! Okay, now that that's out of my system, let me just say what a wonderful review that was! ( I'm so giddy right now, especially with the mention of your story – sounds yummy. I will definitely check that out. Hope you enjoy the chapter!  
  
eclipsed: Wow! I'm blushing...one of the best stories you've read? I'm so flattered, thank you! And thanks for specifying which parts you like, because then it means I can concentrate on those particular aspects. Thanks a lot for the suggestions (it's nice to be nudged in the right direction) and no problem about mentioning Tashue!  
  
Cloudburst2000: Wow, I just have to award you the title of longest review ever. It's absolutely fantastic that you're willing to give that much insight; frankly, I was astounded, and incredibly pleased. Thanks so much for sharing your opinion and I really hope you enjoy the new chapter!  
  
An Admirer: That thought really does hold appeal, doesn't it? Personally, I love the pairing (obviously) – it's so unusual, but has so much potential. Hmm, I'll have to think about it though, because Two-Bit would be a good match too. Decisions, decisions...Thanks for reviewing!  
  
Also, my thanks go out to GrimBloodBath, reader, Dreams of Magic, Death Goddess Assassin, Cole, Humans Suck, Mische, LadyJessy, Cappy, Drea, Elsie, Two-BitGortez, GerryGirl and Aslan. Your reviews rock, guys!  
  
Chapter Seven: Confessions and Revelations  
  
Ponyboy sighed. Again. But really, what else was there to do when he was sandwiched between two greasers that were intent on him spilling his guts, forgoing the new, improved attitudes they'd both adopted after realising they liked him...that way? He was sure that at one point, not long ago even, he had liked them too, but with tempestuous eyes glaring at him from both directions, he was finding himself at a loss as to why.  
  
Patience is a virtue, Pony reminded himself, fighting not to snap. His temper had been increasingly short lately; probably due to the surplus of anxiety he was dealing with, as well as insecurity, shame, attempts at keeping things from his annoyingly overprotective brothers, and exchanges with stubborn, infuriating greasers that...  
  
Right. Patience. He could do that; he was a patient person, according to Sodapop; inherited from his mother. He just needed to take his mind off the causes of his irritation.  
  
One...two...three....  
  
Counting should work; it calmed the mind – a type of meditation, almost...  
  
He could still feel eyes boring into the back of his skull – Dallas really needed to learn the concept of subtlety – and if they didn't spit whatever they wanted to say out he was going to explode. That just wouldn't do, however; remember, he told himself, exercise patience, composure...  
  
Fuck patience.  
  
"What is your problem?" he snapped finally, irritated.  
  
Grey eyes studied him coolly, patient and grim for once as they waited for either the tirade to begin or his companion to interfere. A glance towards the lean figure and cold eyes, and an alternative was eliminated. It appeared Dally was willing to wait this one too. Option number one, then.  
  
And, inevitably...  
  
"Glory, what in the Almighty universe is the matter with you? You're both makin' my fuckin' head spin!" A comely flush coloured high cheekbones as Ponyboy's jaw clenched in frustration.  
  
'Spitfire.' Thought Two-Bit in slight wonder, musing in wonder at the length of time it had taken for him to figure that out. He'd always seemed so...timid. However, he was a redhead Two-Bit reminded himself, and redheads were never predictable.  
  
And, watching said redhead traverse the same length of pavement repetitively, back and forth, hands stuffed into his back pockets, he decided pacing was apparently the favourable alternative for the aforementioned spitfire now.  
  
"Damn, why do y'all insist on bein' so difficult? Jesus, y'all aren't even listenin', are ya?"  
  
Fairly colourful language for a fourteen year-old, but Two-Bit was sure that another few years of his influence and Pony's curses would be as impressive as a sailor's. Guaranteed, considering the fiery redhead temper. In reflection, he couldn't fathom as to why he'd always been attracted to blondes, but he didn't let the thought concern him overmuch; he was presently concentrating all his desires on a knockout redhead with a body to match.  
  
'Amen to that.' He thought with a grin, good humour restored, as he lounged back in his seat, admiring the cling of cotton and denim to firm flesh and the fall of ginger silk across heated orbs.  
  
Which, coincidentally, just happened to glance his way, locking on what he was sure was the goofiest grin ever to see the light of day plastered across his face. It possibly lacked a certain delicacy in the way of sensitivity, if clenching fists were any indication. And Two-Bit was positive that it couldn't be healthy the way Pony's eyes were sparking.  
  
"And what are you laughin' at, ya clown! Don't think you can fuck around with me, ya filthy greasers - I ain't one of yer blondes, Two-Bit. Fess up, both'a ya."  
  
The rusty-haired greaser instantly sobered, and surprisingly intense eyes bored into ardent green orbs, and a ball of anxiety uncurled in Ponyboy's gut. Two-Bit's voice was temperate, but the customary cheer was displaced.  
  
"And why exactly are we fessin' up again, Curtis? I may be close to rip- roarin' drunk right about now, but I'm pretty damn sure it's you that's got a pretty pack a'Socs on yer tail, Ponyboy."  
  
Pony cringed visibly, and the green irises regained a bit more grey, fervent anger dying out a bit, replaced by dread. Teeth worried at his bottom lip, and he couldn't seem to find a place for his hands. Eventually he settled for running long fingers repeatedly through his hair, hoping to emit some of the famous greaser coolness. Wincing as he pulled through a snag in the ginger strands, he smiled weakly, hoping to worm his way out an answer.  
  
No luck: the grey eyes were unmoved and Dally's were even less promising, a sheet of the thickest ice intimidating in its impenetrability.  
  
Why did stubbornness have to be an inherent greaser trait, Pony thought miserably; couldn't they just back down for once?  
  
"No."  
  
Ah, he'd said that aloud? He was definitely in trouble if he couldn't control what he said anymore - if he wasn't careful, his two "suitors" might actually get the information they were seeking. Not a good thing, especially since he wasn't even sure which greaser had responded, and it was a truly bad sign if, of all people, he couldn't tell Two-Bit and Dally apart.  
  
"Fine." he said wearily, conceding defeat.  
  
Two pairs of eyebrows shot up at that, and the two greasers glanced at each other warily before regarding him with identical expressions of distrust.  
  
"Fine?" snarled Dally, "it ain't never that easy, kid."  
  
"Leastways, not if you're gonna tell the truth." interrupted Two-Bit perceptively, flashing him a trademark grin. The smile, though, seemed strained, and for once didn't reach his eyes.  
  
"So, Pony, you'd best be starting that story now, unless you'd rather just, you know, head back to yer place. Soda'll get ya to spill."  
  
The auburn-haired boy froze, mind registering only one word: Soda. Soda, Soda, SODA!  
  
"No!" he cried, "please don't. You won't talk to Sodapop, will ya, Dal?" He turned pleading eyes on Dally, who nearly winced at the appeal in the cloudy green orbs. "Please? You said..."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, kid, I know. I ain't gonna say nothin'." Dallas nodded towards Two-Bit, whose stance was relaxed but attentive.  
  
"Ya might have a bit more trouble convincin' Matthews though, kid. Might wanna start talkin'."  
  
Ponyboy chanced a look at Two-Bit, who stared back steadily, and he read the intent there easily enough. Shoot, he thought, rolling his eyes heavenwards, this aughta be interesting.  
  
"Whaddya wanna know?" The composed, compliant approach was definitely the way to go, no matter that he was shaking inside. He couldn't take the risk of them spilling anything to his brothers; God knew Darry and Soda were already suspicious enough.  
  
"Well, for starters, kid, maybe you should tell me what exactly happened when ya got jumped. Ya were pretty damn quiet when ya came in."  
  
Ponyboy took a deep breath. He'd known the subject would be broached, but he still wasn't quite prepared for the rush of feelings it would bring with it. He didn't know what his problem was; it wasn't as though anything had actually happened. And if nothing had happened, then there was nothing to tell. Plain and simple. He could do this.  
  
"I, uh..."  
  
Another deep breath. He could do this, he'd just have to skirt around the subject a bit, be careful with what he said. Two-Bit didn't have to know everything, not what hadn't actually happened, not when he would just be disgusted by Pony's weakness. He just had to sound confident, assured, like a real greaser. He'd been jumped, yes, but he hadn't sustained any real injuries, not like Johnny had. It was nothing, he told himself, they barely touched me. He hadn't even been frightened.  
  
Which was, of course, why he hadn't been able to sleep and was becoming increasingly jumpy. Right.  
  
Pony cleared his throat, and tried to make his voice come out calm and collected. He was a greaser; he was tough.  
  
"They chased me. I ran to the lot, 'cause I figured somebody'd be there, but it was empty. I got cornered, and one tackled me. I fought back, but the guy was almost as big as Darry. You know, the one with the dark hair?"  
  
Damn, but he sounded like a little kid. His voice was shaking, and he was practically hugging himself. He forced his arms, wrapped around his middle, away from his body, and shoved his hands angrily into his back pockets. Mentally berating himself, he nearly missed Two-Bit's words.  
  
"You mean the giant? He's the one that beat on ya?"  
  
Ponyboy raised uncertain eyes to look at his companions. He took in quickly Dally's appearance, but spared little thought to his reaction; he knew instinctively that he didn't want to think about Dallas just yet – they'd gone too far, too fast, and the confusion, as well as the hurt, was still fresh. Instead, he studied Two-Bit, who seemed uncharacteristically incensed; Pony couldn't figure out at whom his ire was directed.  
  
"Not exactly...it's not like it was that bad, Two-Bit," He stammered, "I'm fine, seriously, I -"  
  
"Finish the story, kid."  
  
The youngest Curtis froze, his only response to glare hotly at the tow- headed speaker that had just spoken, and hoping fervently that Two-Bit would be more considerate and wouldn't press the issue.  
  
No such luck.  
  
"Not finished, Red? Spill, kid. We said we wouldn't do anythin' to the damn Socs fer now, but spit it out."  
  
Ponyboy took a moment to collect himself, trying to think of a way to present the situation to the rusty-haired greaser without angering him further, but found that he couldn't even put into words the happenings of that day. He had no idea of the cause – what exactly had provoked the Socs - and after it had happened, he had done his best to push it to the back of his mind, so it was returning in a jumble of confused images and feelings in vivid detail. It hurt to think about it; he could feel their hands again, his bruises seemed fresh, the cuts newly inflicted, and the words sounded loudly in his ears.  
  
'Will ya spread them for me, greaser?'  
  
A minute shudder tore through his lean frame, and he pressed his lips instinctively together to prevent a whimper from escaping.  
  
"They, uh, well... he – the one guy, the one that hit me," Ponyboy began shakily, conscious of Two-Bit's eyes on him, "he was sayin' stuff, talkin' about my legs and my face." He looked up at the elder greaser. "Kinda stuff I heard you say before, Two-Bit, 'bout girls, but then, he...he..."  
  
He trailed off, his apprehension evident, gaze seeking out Dally's beseechingly, but the tow-headed greaser had his back turned, and his posture was stiff with anger. He turned back to the muscular figure lounging in a seat and his expression was almost desperate.  
  
"Glory, he...he kissed me." His friend sat up abruptly at that, and Ponyboy watched him warily, tears threatening to fall as he backed up a few steps, long arms once again wrapped protectively around his middle. Two- Bit simply sat rigidly, face impassive and stone grey eyes glittering dangerously.  
  
"Yeah, he kissed me, and," Pony continued; his voice suddenly became very small and he seemed even younger than fourteen, "he touched me."  
  
The words were barely a whisper, but Two-Bit heard them clearly, and felt a ball of rage that had been growing steadily in the pit of his stomach since Johnny was attacked unfurl. He jumped up, struggling not to yell, cognisant of the fact that he'd probably scare the hell out of his...his what? His fellow greaser, his friend, his – he blanched at the thought - love-interest?  
  
He wasn't entirely sure what exactly Ponyboy meant to him right now, but he knew that he'd better tread very carefully henceforth. Rape, even attempted rape, could seriously damage a person's psyche, he knew. He'd seen it nearly happen to a girl once, at Buck Merrill's place, and she'd been hysterical after he'd pried the hood off of her; wouldn't let anyone touch her at all.  
  
Let everyone think that he was just a dumb hood, but he wasn't stupid when it came to people; people craved laughter, relief, he sensed that instinctively and sought to fulfil that need. He found that with Ponyboy, though, he desired to take a different approach - to soothe instead of joke, to caress instead of wrestle.  
  
He didn't dare; however, with the way he'd been acting earlier. Damn, but he regretted kissing the kid. Not for lack of desire, naturally, but he had been aware he was pushing certain limits; Ponyboy was only fourteen, after all, even if he was a mature fourteen, as he claimed. His main concern at the time had been how he was going to make it out of the situation with all his limbs intact if the other Curtis boys found out about his 'indiscretions'.  
  
Now, though, he was preoccupied with the manner in which he should behave with the young redhead. All he found himself wanting to do when in Pony's presence was ravish him senseless, but it didn't seem as though that was in the cards. He had been dealt an unusually harsh hand and he was going to suffer for his desires, he could tell. If it wasn't bruises resulting from unfriendly encounters with overprotective brothers, it was going to be the perhaps less bearable pain of unfulfilled desire. He was a young, virile greaser whom couldn't turn off his hormones, which boded for trouble if he was looking for a serious relationship.  
  
So it was a good thing he wasn't.  
  
He wasn't, right?  
  
Two-Bit sighed heavily, and tried to focus, to put things into perspective. He was horny in a bad way, that was true, and he wanted Ponyboy, but the common sense that most people were unaware he possessed ascertained the impossibility of that desire quickly. He could not have him, Ponyboy was hurting, and the Socs had in it for the youngest Curtis.  
  
The notion, once processed in organised thought, made him angry. Fury – at himself, Pony, the Socs – predominated over his emotions, blocking out any lingering hurt, lust or compassion.  
  
"They touched you?" he spat with venom, "They had the fuckin' balls to-to maul you...to fuckin' grope you, is that what yer tellin' me? Jesus fuck, Ponyboy, why in hell didn't ya say somethin'?"  
  
His voice rose steadily with the entirety of his anger. Pony's eyes widened frightfully and Dally took a protective step forward.  
  
"Calm the fuck down, Matthews." He said with barely controlled frustration, jaw tight with the effort of restrain. If possible, Ponyboy's eyes widened further with alarm as they flitted nervously between the two greasers, sensing the developing tension.  
  
Oh God, he thought desperately, he hates me; I knew he would! He gazed at the two greasers tearfully, gasping when he heard the next words.  
  
"Calm down...what the fuck are you talkin' about? I woulda thought you'd be out pounding some West Side trash...what changed? Don't tell me ya had a go at him too, Dallas, like one of them damn Socy bastards?" Two-Bit demanded, swallowing reflexively at the ill-mannered gibe. His rugged countenance twisted, a myriad of emotions passing in the beat of a second – disbelief, indignation, anger, impassiveness – as green-grey eyes dropped shamefully and Dally remained silent and the truth sunk in. He forced out a bark of strained laughter.  
  
"Well, well, here I was thinkin' that you were okay, Dal. Fuck all, I musta been drinkin' more than I thought, 'cause it sure don't seem like you're all that great of a guy, Winston." His tone was biting and Ponyboy winced even though the words weren't directed at him.  
  
Dally's eyes narrowed threateningly in a manner that would have sent others running for the hills, but Two-Bit didn't budge, standing motionless as Dallas faced him in a decidedly confrontational way that was becoming distressingly familiar.  
  
"Hate to remind ya, Matthews, but it was you that had your tongue down his throat when I got here. You should learn t'keep your hands to yourself."  
  
"What, like you, Dal?" he shot back mockingly. He was unprepared for the fist that sent him sprawling to the ground, but recovered quickly enough, springing to his feet and launching himself at Dally, knocking him over. The wrestling was rather brutal and dwindled down in intensity gradually. Having successfully relieved a great amount of tension, they climbed to their feet, considering each other warily before coming to the same conclusion at the exact same time:  
  
Ponyboy was gone.  
  
And in a lot somewhere in the east side of Tulsa, Oklahoma, a young boy with slender legs and narrow shoulders let himself be rocked gently by his companion, only slightly older with dark skin and melting brown eyes, reminiscent to those of a puppy. The tanned boy stroked auburn locks soothingly, muttering reassuring nonsense as his distraught friend choked out the details of his many lust-driven encounters. And when the ginger- haired boy sobbed out that he felt alone, dirty and unloved, the dark- skinned boy knew exactly what to say, because over the years he had learned to reassure himself with the very same words.  
  
Thanks for reading, guys, hope you enjoyed it! That little part right at the end with Johnny was for you, eclipsed, sorry it was so short! 


End file.
